


Over the Threshold and into the Wild

by Undertheink16



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Middle Earth Setting, During The Hobbit, F/M, Family Feels, Fantasy, Friendship/Love, Growth, Magical Accidents, Modern Girl in Middle Earth, Original Character(s), Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, POV Original Female Character, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:20:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 76,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23020849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Undertheink16/pseuds/Undertheink16
Summary: ' "We know little about you, Eryn Fey, only that you’re the woman who came to us through a door in the wall." Thorin ascertained, his eyes bore into hers.'Eryn is a young woman who walks through a magic door and is plunged into a world shes fond of on paper, but will her fondness grow when faced with peril, 13 Dwarves, a Hobbit and a Wizard?
Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 63
Kudos: 177





	1. Adventures Call

The lights flickered in the old musty storefront. The rain had let up a little since the deluge that had lasted all week. It was a lovely Saturday. Eryn looked out the window with her head resting on her folded arms at the front desk of her Grandfather's antique store. The sound of her Grandfather shuffling new inventory and the sigh of exhaustion that came every now and then concerned Eryn. He was so tired lately. So was she.  
"These darn light bulbs," he sighed under his breath.  
"I'm sure it's just the storm." as if to validate her accusation, a roll of thunder answered with a low growl.  
"You might be right. But it's just the shop. She's old and has a lot of character and bound to go blind sooner or later." he chuckled.  
"Are you sure you're not self-deprecating, Papa?" Eryn asked as she raised herself up from the desk and strode to her Grandfather. He often personified his own woes in the shop. It wasn't uncommon for him to complain about something in the shop that he quickly directed toward himself.  
"No, dear, I would never do that." he smiled wryly. "Seems all people donate is books. People these days have tablets and smartphones, no room for books anymore." He frowned.  
"Well, you can fit hundreds of books onto one device, instead of one bookshelf. Though I do prefer a firm book in my hand more." Eryn shrugged.  
"Me too, dear. It's just not a sentimental age anymore." He rose with an arm full of books, placing them on one of the empty bookshelves for sale in the antique shop.  
Eryn searched the box for anything she recognized, and at the bottom, she noticed one of her personal favorites. "Tolkein!" she reached for the book like an old friend, though it had been a long time since she read them. Eryn had very fond memories of her Grandfather reading to her when she was little. "The Hobbit." she breathed, "This one's my favorite. It's so incredible that Tolkein himself wrote every one of those languages. Everything feels so real when you read it, it's hard to believe that was his imagination."  
"You know, I don't believe he thought of it all on his own, no. Not at all." Eryn's Grandfather said so matter-of-factly, she looked at him like he had lost his last marble. Her eyebrows were so tightly knit together; they could almost be one.  
"What?" she laughed, "That's crazy. Of course, Tolkien imagined it. It's like Hogwarts, the Matrix, Game of Thrones, Die Hard! They're all great stories; someone had the brain to imagine all of that." she sighed enviously, "There's no way that anything Tolkein wrote was non-fiction."  
"You never know dear." her Grandfather sighed, he suddenly seemed very melancholy.  
"Papa, are you ok? Did you take your medicine today?" She didn't mean to fuss over him, but so much of her life revolved around him.  
"I'm fine, dear." He smiled widely at her. "Now do me a favor and go get your old man the last box of books from the back door.  
Eryn agreed and walked quickly to the back of the old antiques and oddities shop. Her Grandfather Eugene was so proud of it, he had this shop for as long as she could remember. It paid the bills, and they had enough, but she couldn't shake this feeling lately like she wanted more. Eryn wanted to go somewhere new, be someone new. She had no friends, family whom she never spoke to. Eryn only had her Grandfather, and not much to leave behind materially. She wanted to pack a bag and drive until she couldn't anymore, or use her savings to buy a ticket to anywhere in the world. The wandering spirit in her was calling and much more potent than usual.  
Eryn spotted the box in question sitting by the back door, and she reached for it, but once she did, she felt it. A pull, it was like a light breeze, and on it, whispering so softly was her name. She couldn't see it, or audibly hear it, but she knew it was there. She raised herself slowly, looked to her left and there it was. Tucked away in a corner, was a door. It didn't look like much, just a narrow dark green door with a faded gold trim and knob. It pulled like a magnet.  
Eryn walked slowly to it, completely entranced by whatever was drawing her there. As she got closer, she realized, this door wasn't in the wall at all, it was still on a frame and leaned up against the shop wall.  
Time stilled as Eryn looked it up and down. She slowly reached her surprisingly steady hand and touched the knob with her fingertips; it was cold and dusty. She took a breath and grasped the handle, still mesmerized.  
"Eryn!" She heard, immediately snapping her out of whatever trance she was in. She blinked hard and turned, the magnet was gone. "Did you get lost back there?" Her Grandfather called. Eryn quickly grabbed the box and walked back to the front of the store.  
"No, I'm fine, sorry, I just saw a door back there I'd never seen before," she answered honestly, setting the box down in front of him.  
"Oh? Which one?" he inquired.  
"The green one, it's stunning." She played it down a bit, it was absolutely gripping.  
"The green one, eh? I've had that for a long time." He smiled at some fond memories he seemed to have recalled. "Well dear, I think it's about time to get going, don't you?" he looked at her knowingly, almost like he heard her voice on the wind as well.  
"Uh, yeah, I need to get supper going." She quickly gathered her things from the front desk. 

The walk back home was only a five-minute walk from the shop, which was convenient. They walked to work every morning, went home for lunch, and had a pleasant evening stroll when the day was done. Though the rain this past week had made the walks a little less enjoyable. Eryn liked watching the storm but didn't enjoy being in it for too long.  
Later that night, Eryn made supper, as usual, cleaned up and prepared their lunches for the following day. She made herself a nice cup of tea and drew a warm bath in an attempt to relax, but she just couldn't. Eryn dunked her head a few times under the water to try and clear her head, but nothing helped. After her bath, she decided to read a book, but she couldn't focus on a single word. Finally, she resolved to just go to bed. The night was now ruined, for no apparent reason.

Once she woke up the next morning, she felt a bit better. She quickly dressed, put on her makeup and combed her dark copper hair, her hair was by no means naturally red, she was, in fact, a brunet; but who told the truth these days? Eryn gathered her bag for the day and headed out.  
Her Grandfather had an appointment this morning, so she would be opening the antique store on her own.   
Eryn walked to the shop quickly as she always did, but something felt different about this morning. She began to open the shop as usual, but before she knew it her feet were already moving to the back of the store. The magnetic spell was more potent than yesterday. Eryn wasn't sure if it was pure curiosity or if there actually was a magnet behind that door. She had to know. Her Grandfather always told her she was antsier than a long-tail cat in a room full of rocking chairs when she had her mind fixed on something and she tried to ignore it. But this, there was no ignoring.  
Before she knew it, she was standing before the mysterious door, her hand outstretched, and she grasped it firmly. What was she doing? It was just a door, what was the big deal? So she turned the handle and slowly cracked the door, she felt a cool breeze creep through the cracks, and she peeked behind it.  
What she saw made no sense. There was nothing that could explain it, no words or thoughts could rationalize it. Behind the door was a room, a big room, it looked like a library. Cold stones built the room, books, knick-knacks filled the shelves, and pale moonlight streaked through the open windows. Eryn stepped through cautiously, turning her head from side to side, looking for anything that resembled something she recognized.  
The room was so quiet it felt unreal. Like Eryn was still asleep. After a few moments of staring, she realized that there was something familiar about it, she immediately felt the frustrating sensation of a forgotten word or thought. It was on the tip of her tongue when Eryn heard the slow latch of the door; it had closed behind her. Eryn quickly grasped the handle again, she shouldn't be here, wherever "here" was. Much to her surprise and horror, when she swung the door open a second time, only stone greeted her. It was gone. The shop was gone.  
"That's impossible," she breathed, trying her best not to panic. She would just figure out where she was and head back to her home, or maybe she would wake up and she could start this whole thing over again. "This is impossible," she muttered again.  
She closed the door and opened it again four or five times, trying to recreate whatever it was that happened. She ran her fingers around the frame of the door, beat it with her fist, and then came full circle again to open it and close it. She had lost track by this point as to how many times she tried.  
After her unknown attempt, she heard someone clear their throat behind her. Eryn spun around to see what seemed to be a child, he was standing in an archway looking at her peculiarly.  
"I didn't know there were any other travelers here." the child spoke, but the voice was all  
wrong, it was a man's voice.  
He took a few steps closer to her, and she then saw that he had a youthful face, but was an older man. He had curly blonde hair atop his head, green slacks, and suspenders. He dressed kind of like her Grandfather.  
"I'm sorry, I seem to be lost." Eryn choked out slowly. Her stare was unmoving. "Where  
am I?" her voice broke, and she internally kicked herself, the last impression she wanted to give was that she was afraid.  
"Why, you're in Rivendell." He looked at her, confused, his eyes were wide, and sweat began to bead on his forehead. "What is your name?" the man asked, he was only a few feet away now. 

"Rivendell?" The word slowly fell from her lips, it didn't seem real. This couldn't be real.  
What on earth was happening?  
Eryn stared at the small man who stood before her, and her eyes grew with understanding. Her head swam with confusion and fear, it boiled up from the pit of her stomach all the way to her brain. She swiveled her head like a bobble, took one last look at the man, and fainted.


	2. Rivendell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter is a bit shorter, I ended up writing this on an airplane, fun times.

Dinner had just begun and the unexpected party of a wizard, a Hobbit and 13 dwarves had made themselves well at home with the hospitality of Elrond and the elves of Rivendell. The Hobbit was late to dinner, but everyone else had begun eating merrily, even though there wasn't any meat at the table of Lord Elrond, the wine was good and the company was in good spirits.

After they fled from warg scouts and thought themselves abandoned, Gandalf the Grey came through in the end, even though that led them to the company of elves.

Gandalf sat hesitant at the table with Lord Elrond and the King Under the Mountain, Thorin Oakenshield. Though they had been in Rivendell for only a few days, Thorin, had his fill of the eloquence of elves and Gandalf once again had his fill of the stubbornness of dwarves. The first hour was exhausting, keeping the peace among dwarves was like attempting to tame a warg. Though things calmed down as they got food in their belly's, there was still suspicion.

Gandalf and Lord Elrond exchanged pleasantries as expected, even Thorin included himself from time to time, but what really kept Gandalf's mind occupied was the absence of the Hobbit. He hadn't seen Bilbo Baggins since they unloaded their packs in one of the halls. Much to Gandalf's horror, they insisted on staying outdoors on one of the balconies, instead of a finely crafted room. What he feared next was that they would begin disassembling the furniture for firewood.

As the evening went on he heard the haste of bare feet approaching the dining hall. Bilbo Baggins jogged up to the high table, he paused a moment to catch his breath and then composed himself, latching his thumbs to his suspenders. "There's a woman, she's passed out in the Library. Thought you ought to know." He exclaimed, matter-of-fact.

Gandalf, Elrond and Thorin all exchanged a look and rose from the table swiftly. All of the elf attendants paused and looked for any sign of trouble, not knowing what was going on, while all of the dwarves rose, expecting a tussle.

The hustle to the great Library of Elrond was a noisy event, but once they laid eyes on the unconscious woman lying on the floor there was a respectful hush that fell over all parties involved.

"Leave space, all of you" Lord Elrond directed. He walked gracefully over to her and placed a gentle hand on her forehead. Gandalf was also there kneeling by her side. The library was quite packed now and there was a chorus of murmurs from the observing dwarves and attending elves.

"What do we have here?" Elrond breathed. He and Gandalf exchanged a concerned look, one that few of the dwarves noticed.

"This is quite unusual" murmured Gandalf looking at Elrond through his bushy eyebrows.

"Unusual indeed." Elrond paused and looked up toward the golden door the woman collapsed in front of.

"You don't think?" Gandalf asked wearily.

"I do not know that to think Mithrandir, until the woman can speak for herself."

"So she is not one of yours then?" Thorin grunted. His comment caused a weary outburst from the other dwarves. Gandalf shot Thorin a look of disapproval, he replied with a huff and shouted "Quiet! All of you!" The dwarves responded in kind.

With a wave of his hand Elrond motioned for another elf to come over, the elf summoned walked over and gently lifted the woman from the floor.

Eryn awoke with a headache, she fainted and hit her head quite hard on the stone floor but the place she awoke in was not the stone library. Instead, she was in a plush bed, incredibly warm and felt a bit drunk if she were to be honest. She felt tingly and good, like when her grandmother would massage her scalp, the bliss she felt was otherworldly.

She sat up slowly, and looked around, disappointment set in that she did not wake up in her own bed, or room, but somewhere else entirely.

"Ah, you're awake." A singsong voice chimed. "We were beginning to think that you wouldn't wake until morning"

"Where am I?" Eryn asked. "The small man-child said I was in Rivendell? That can't be right."

"Man child?" The woman looked puzzled. "Oh! You mean the Hobbit!" She chuckled. "Yes, this is Rivendell. There is no other place like it." She smiled, obviously proud. "Now, let's get you ready so we can present you to Lord Elrond." She made her way to a stack of clothes sitting on the adjacent bed.

"I did not know your measurements, so I brought you cloths I thought looked best." The Elf smiled as she pulled a piece of the most beautiful clothing Eryn had ever seen.

"I'm sorry if I ask a lot of dumb questions, I'm just trying to understand, what is happening?" Eryn placed the palm of her hand to her forehead, defeated.

The woman turned and smiled tenderly. "My apologies miss, let's start over. My name is Merodyn." She bowed. "I am a maid to the house of Elrond, I will be your tending maid while you are here in Rivendell. What is your name?"

"Eryn." She replied strangely relieved but still confused. "I'm Eryn Fey" she extended a hand to shake, the elf woman just stared at her hand outstretched.

"I am not familiar with this custom." She narrowed her eyes.

"You take the hand, in your hand, and you shake it." Eryn tried to explain, it sounded really stupid when she put it into words and that's exactly what Merodyn did, just not exactly the way Eryn expected. But there are no rules to making friends and Eryn did indeed make her first friend.

Merodyn dressed Eryn with ease, though she was a bit uncomfortable with how comfortable Merodyn was with Eryn being naked. It was amazing that Merodyn could figure out Eryns measurements in only a couple of attempts, everything she pulled was practically just right except for the occasional length or waist measurement. The fabric felt otherworldly, it was soft and flowy, though Eryn being overly critical of herself, thought it didn't suit her. Eryn didn't have a long lean figure like the Merodyn, she was a five-foot-three young woman with meat on her bones, "bodacious" was the word her grandmother used to describe her. She was approaching her 26th birthday and was almost past the "good metabolism" days.

"Merodyn?" Eryn began as the final sash was wrapped around her waist. "Why do I feel drunk?"

Merodyn laughed and fastened a beautiful silver pin to hold the sash in place. "Magic can do that to a person. Some people feel a tingly, drunk sensation when they've experienced it, depending on race and they type of magic." She stood and smiled. "You're all done."

Rivendell was breathtaking, a place that Eryn would almost tear up over as a child because it wasn't a real place, now it's right in front of her eyes. She would love to tell her younger self a few things, she still had a hard time believing that it was a real place, even seeing it for herself.

Merodyn walked Eryn to a large doorway and motioned for her to enter, there was no door, only a gaping entry way with incredible stone architecture. Once she entered she knew exactly where she was, the library again. Eeyn became apprehensive, where was it? Was the door still there? Could she go back home? Was she going to be sent back home or was she stuck here? Millions of questions and variables swam through her mind.

"Greetings, Eryn Fey." A tall, illustrious man said as she approached a gold door in the wall. He stood by an open window, the moonlight made his already perfect skin look like porcelain. "Do you know where you are?" He asked still gazing out the window.

"Rivendell." Eryn felt stupid saying it, it was rediculous, but that's what she had been told, and there was something deep in her gut that told her so as well.

"Indeed." He said, finally turning, the train on his robe spinning a little too dramatically for Eryns taste. Then she realized who she was speaking with. She couldn't be in Rivendell and not have met-

"I am Elrond." As if he heard her very thoughts. "Now, what brings you here, Eryn Fey of man?" he looked pointed at her, as if expecting an answer.

"I have no idea." She breathed. "I found a door, it called to me, and…" Eryn paused.

"You stepped through it." Elrond finished. "As you do all doors. It's very poetic is it not?" He smiled gently at her.

They were interrupted by footsteps, loud ones, or many? It was unclear to Eryn until a tall man in a grey robe, with a tall pointed hat and staff came gallivanting into the library followed by a large group of men, she noticed the man-child, or Hobbit, was close behind them all.

When she saw them all march into the great library, she knew exactly where and when she was. If she was in Rivendell and she was standing before Elrond, then there was a group of thirteen dwarves, a wizard and a hobbit, then that could only mean one thing. This was the march to Eribor, it was the Hobbit. What timing.

Eryn swore.


	3. Unexpected Development

Eryn swore, crude and loud. The room went silent from all the chatter of the dwarves and Lord Elrond looked at her with raised eyebrows.

"I like her!" Shouted a dwarf from the crowd. Eryn gave a quick look trying to decide who it was, she saw that there were many approving faces and she smiled in return.

"Well now." said Gandalf with an uncomfortable cough. "What is your name and the matter of your business young woman?" He leaned on his staff and perked his eyebrows up, most amused.

"My name is Eryn Fey, and as to the matter of my business, I don't have any." She heard murmurs and grunts, but Eryn continued "I saw this door, it didn't look like it went anywhere, it was propped up against the wall in my grandfather's antique shop. I noticed it last night, it was…" Eryn paused. "Calling me." She stopped and looked at Elrond and Gandalf, they both nodded for her to continue. "I couldn't get it out of my head and when I went to work again this morning, I went to check it out, only to open it and here I am." She tried to explain as best she could, but it sounded a lot less epic of a tale when she said it.

"As you can see, I have one here in my halls, but never once have I seen it actually used." Elrond began. "There were very few of them made and I have only heard of their power in writing or from others wiser than I. It's quite surprising to have only now seen something like this, in all of my years."

"So, what does it do?" Asked a small voice that Eryn recognized, the Hobbit stepped around the dwarves and to the door in question.

"It is a portal, Master Baggins." Gandalf spoke. "And a very unique one at that." He nodded toward Lord Elrond to continue but Eryn spoke first.

"So, if it's a portal, how do I use it to get back home?" Eryn inquired.

"I know of one other door like it, and its keeper is the only one to have seen it work in his time." Elrond looked to Thorin, knowingly. "In the Greenwood, or at least that is what it was once called, ruled by Thranduil, whom I am sure you are familiar with Thorin, son of Thrain." Thorin's jaw clenched at Elrond's words. "That is where you will find your way back to where you came from Miss Fey."

"Ok, how do I get there?" She asked, eager.

"You'll have to travel there, my dear." He smiled at her.

"Actually, if I may." Gandalf chimed in. "She could come with our company. We will be heading that way, and it's no trouble for us to see her there."

"You speak too freely wizard." Thorin hissed. "We have no intention of going to Mirkwood and we have no interest in the problems of this woman." He spat. Eryn recoiled at the venom of his words, she forgot about the squabble of dwarves and elves.

"Thorin, would you really make this woman travel to Mirkwood alone? Especially if there were no hindrance to us?" Gandalf challenged.

"The woman herself would be a great hindrance!" he countered. "It's bad enough that you insisted on bringing a Hobbit along."

Even though he was right, Eryn felt a tinge of her pride hurt. She wasn't sure if she wanted to agree with him or prove him wrong.

"Wait! Why can't you just send me back from here?" Eryn questioned. "You're both wizards! Can't either of you do it?"

"If I knew how to Miss Fey, I would. But the only person I know who has seen this magic before is the ruler of Mirkwood."

"So, there's no other way?" She felt her eyes prickle with tears.

"I'm afraid not my dear." Gandalf said his eyes set on her.

"Couldn't she be occupied by your kin? Or are they too occupied with other things?" Thorin challenged Elrond with a glare.

"He is not the one who suggested that Miss Fey accompany you. I suggest you take your squabbles elsewhere." Gandalf motioned them to the door, the dwarves filed out begrudgingly but Thorin lingered for a moment longer, an obvious defiance before leaving; not before he shot Eryn a heated glare. "Like it's my fault." Eryn mumbled under her breath.

She had to get to Mirkwood, it had been a long time since she read the book or seen the movies and couldn't remember how long that took, though it was safe to assume a long time. Then there were the elements, the wild and then she remembered the worst of her fears, Orks, wargs and goblins. Eryn shuddered involuntarily, felt her face prickle and warm. Her reaction did not go unnoticed.

"Are you feeling ill?" Elrond asked.

"No, I'm just… nervous." She said, though that was putting it mildly.

"Nervous of what my dear?" Gandalf questioned.

Eryn paused before answering, how could she explain what was going on? In times like these, she always found that honesty was the best policy, but how could she explain this? What are the odds that they would believe her? Maybe she would leave just a few details out.

"See, Middle Earth is a legend where I come from. Something that was read to me as a child and well into adulthood." She stopped and assessed how her opening line seemed to be doing, her audience only looked at her with narrowed eyes.

"Are our legends told as history?" Lord Elrond asked.

She paused and pursed her lips, trying to find the right words, quickly her grandfather's words came to mind and she smiled. "Some people do, others think it's just a story." Eryn admitted, Elrond's brow furrowed a bit and Gandalf shifted uncomfortably on his staff. "On my side of the door it's a complicated tale, but it is my favorite." Eryn felt her face flush, she noticed a soft smile play in Gandalf's eyes and his lips curled upward.

"But it is a tale told to your people none-the-less. This is becoming quite the tale itself." Elrond said, smiling warmly at Eryn now, it made her feel warm again, like she did when she awoke. "So, these tales, is the quest at handwritten of? Would our history told in your world act as a guide or a hindrance?"

Eryn thought about it for a moment, she hadn't considered her knowledge to be of any particular use, at least not in the short time she had been here in Middle Earth, in fact she thought that getting back would be a bit easier than walking all the way to Mirkwood, but as circumstances presented themselves, she might need the information. But what changes could she make? What would be the consequences of changing anything? The story told is so beloved, how could she even consider changing anything? "I can't say." Eryn answered honestly. "The history is so finely told, if there's even one change, the whole thing could be ruined. There are some things I'm sure that could be changed to no great consequence, but there are absolutes. Like Bilbo, one little Hobbit is going to set things in motion that are unimaginable." Eryn paused, contemplating the Ring, Frodo and Sam, even Bilbo's own growth, she would be an absolute moron to mess that up. "I would be too scared to change anything." Eryn looked downcast at her shoes; she tapped her toes together as she does when she's nervous.

"Then answer me this." Gandalf said, with a look on his face uninterpretable. "Will we succeed?" He said looking to Elrond, awaiting any counter question or statement. But Eryn didn't answer right away. "Do you believe that is a fair question, Lord Elrond?" He probed.

"I do not, but I am very curious myself." Elrond admitted.

"You will." Eryn answered. "But there will be loss, it will be hard and honestly, some of them will die." She said somberly, remembering the last few chapters of The Hobbit. The death of the King Under the Mountain and his nephews was so casually mentioned that she forgot it even happened sometimes, it was just a tragic tale of a man succumbed to greed, taking his nephews with him.

"Hmm…" Gandalf pursed his lips. "Who will perish?" He dared ask, waiting for Elrond to correct him, but no correction came.

Eryn looked at Elrond for approval, and he nodded again for her to continue. "Thorin. His nephews as well." She felt her voice drop, somber.

"Is it the dragon?" Elrond asked coolly.

"No actually, the dragon isn't the problem." Eryn said, to both Gandalf and Elrond's surprise. "The problem is the stubbornness of Dwarves." Eryn chuckled lightly.

"What is so funny?" Elrond asked pointedly. "You say that Thorin and his nephews are slain, due to stubbornness? Do not forget Miss Fey, these are not your tales. To you, they may be a story, but to us, they are still very much real and alive." He corrected her firmly but kindly, and Eryn felt her face flush with embarrassment. Of course, she couldn't treat this like a story, it wasn't, they were alive just as she was. Whether it made sense to her or not, they are experiencing life just as vividly as she, who was she to mock their stubbornness?

"You're right." She admitted, her head hung. "I'm sorry for my careless words… I didn't mean to seem so rude."

"All is well my dear, I simply wanted to remind you of the weight which you bare. This life is ours, it could be yours as well, when you see it as such." Elrond smiled so warmly at Eryn, she smiled in return.

"Well my dear, you must be hungry." Gandalf smiled, and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Why don't you accompany me for a late evening meal." He motioned with his staff for the door and she followed.

"Gandalf." Elrond stopped them. "I do not know if this quest is wise."

"It is Thorin's right." Gandalf said reverently.

"It will also be his demise." Elrond replied.

Eryn turned to Elrond "You're right." She sighed. "But like you said, this life is theirs. Don't they get a chance to challenge their fate?" She felt bolder than before, and she regretted it as soon as he looked at her; she realized that she was still just a coward. Gandalf, however, saw her small moment of boldness and smiled.

"I will seek your council later this evening." Gandalf said to Lord Elrond as he placed a hand on Eryn's shoulder and guided her out of the great library.

"I'm quite interested in what you know, my dear." Gandalf said to Eryn as they walked slowly down the corridor. The night was cool and crisp, Eryn shivered.

"What would you like to know?" She asked, hesitant.

"Can it be changed?" He asked, and Eryn already knew what he was referring to.

"I don't know… The death of the line of Durin is certain, but I don't know if it's absolute. If we managed to save even one of them, I don't know what would happen." She shrugged.

"You know, I've always been challenged by the stubbornness of dwarves, but I've always admired their passion. I want them to succeed. I could not imagine the resources available if the lonely mountain was run by a noble, generous king. I believe that Thorin could be that king. I also believe the line of Durin has its faults, but that the madness can be overcome, given the proper motivation and encouragement." Gandalf said stopping and looking at Eryn with his eyebrows raised and a mischievous smile.

"Well, a strength out of balance is a weakness." Eryn said matter of fact, she didn't know what he was suggesting but knew that this wizard was not a fool, and every crazy idea he had worked out well in the end. She trusted him, she always had, she always will.

"Hmmm… very wise." He smiled at her and continued walking. "Now, with that mindset, allow me to introduce you to your new companions." Gandalf smirked and Eryn took a deep breath as the approached an archway. Through the opening she noticed firelight danced on the wall just beyond the mouth of the entryway, voices and laughter echoed off the walls.

When they rounded the corner, all laughter ceased, and eyes were locked on the pair standing in the archway.

Eryn noticed immediately that the room was a mess, clothes strewn everywhere, socks hung on any available surface. Bedrolls were laid out around a fire that was not intended to be lit there, all furniture disassembled and stacked as firewood next to the fire. The area they turned into a campsite was a beautiful patio and Eryn laughed at the hilarity of the scene before her.

Gandalf cleared his throat. "I would like to properly introduce you all to Eryn Fey, your newest member and adviser. Any qualms you have, you may discuss with me, after I have had a much-needed glass of wine." At that Gandalf turned and left, much quicker than he had walked with Eryn here. Her eyes grew wide and she turned in shock to chase after him, but he was gone.

The stubbornness of dwarves was rivaled by only one thing, the ambition of an equally fervent Wizard.


	4. The Weight Of A Sausage Vs. Knowledge

This time it was Thorin who swore. He rose to his feet quickly to pursue the Wizard who was once standing in the doorway, only to be met with the same absence Eryn had witnessed. Once he realized there was no Wizard to admonish, he turned on Eryn with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw.

"What is the meaning of this?" He said with a biting vehemence that made a shiver run up Eryns spine. It was so calm but chilling she couldn't help but look away, she had never seen anything like it. She didn't know why she chose to chicken out now of all times, she wanted to make a good impression, and right now she was doing very poorly. She took a breath and squared off; she would not be a coward now.

"I'm Eryn." She started without thinking but was quickly interrupted.

"We know who you are lass, you made quite a scene earlier." An older dwarf with a long white beard said.

"I do not need the additional trouble of the company of a woman." Thorin informed.

"But Gandalf said I would be joining you." When Eryn said this his face grew red. "I take it that was assumed?"

"Don't be intimidated by Thorin, he's a bit outspoken today." The older dwarf said.

"As is the Wizard. He assumes too much." Thorin seethed.

"Well, you know what they say about assuming." Eryn said without thinking, a few heads turned now, once trying to look uninterested, now fully invested.

"What do they say?" A young voice asked, Eryn identified it as the young-looking dwarf with dark hair. Kili she assumed, but she would sort that out later.

"It makes an ass out of you and me." Eryn's joke fell flat. Thorin looked at her so perplexed that it seemed to have made him even more upset. He turned on his heels and walked briskly down the corridor where Gandalf retreated, grumbling something in a language Eryn could not understand.

Once he left there were a few specks of laughter here and there, a young dwarf with a humorous bowl cut appreciated her joke the most; as for the others, Eryn intended to spell out for them later.

"Why don't you have a seat?" the older dwarf said giving a rosy grin, holding out a hand gesturing for her to come sit by the fire. Eryn sat down beside a very broad dwarf, his head was shaven, aside from the long hair he had growing along the sides of his head and his impressive beard. The tattoos on his skull were very detailed, fine lines and sharp edges. His mouth was pressed into a hard line and his eyes were sharp as he stared at her. Eryn noted that his eyes were very bright, despite their intensity, she could tell that he was youthful and saw a glimmer of mischief under the quizzical brow. Eryn smiled at him; his brow deepened.

"Now, now brother." Ballin said. "Let's not scare the girl."

"Dwalin." He grunted. "At your service." He extended a hand much to Eryns surprise and she took it.

"Well! If it isn't the cursing dame herself." A dwarf with a winged hat said to Ballins left. "I thought you disappeared." he was roasting a sausage over the fire, next to him was another dwarf with a salt and pepper beard, holding a whole head of lettuce over the fire. He was so intent on what he was doing Eryn didn't dare say anything, though upon further observation of his physical state, she noticed that he had an axe buried deep into his skull. Eryns eyes grew wide.

"Don't mind him." Bofur said. "He's only taken an axe to the skull is all. Hasn't damaged him too badly, he's just occasionally feisty and poor conversation." he informed further. Eryn nodded to him, but he was so intent on his lettuce, he hardly noticed he was being spoken about.

The smell of the food caused Eryns stomach to protest loudly and she covered her stomach, embarrassed. Ballin noticed and held a long fork out to her and nodded toward the Dwarf with the funny hat. "Bofur, would you please hand the lass some food?" Eryn took the skewer and plate that was handed to her, thanking them.

She looked around and saw many others doing various tasks, a younger dwarf was lounging on a bench ottoman, smoking a pipe. To her left was a dwarf with black hair that reminded her of a six pointed star, he was hanging socks on a makeshift laundry line, while another, much larger dwarf was sitting on a desk not intended for anyone to sit on, let alone someone of his caliber. Further back on the patio was a makeshift dormitory, with bed rolls thrown all over the place, some were occupied, while others lounged on them talking to one another.

The chatter of the Dwarves increased as the food was passed around, the shouting grew, and the laughter was merrier by the second. Eryn participated in small talk, ate a few sausages offered to her and was nibbling on a piece of bread when she heard a loud creaking from the desk to her right. She looked over to see the large dwarf happily eating his plate of food with no regard for his current predicament. She also wasn't the only one who noticed.

Bofur, noticed. He looked at the happy Dwarf enjoying his meal, then looked at the sausage he had just removed from the fire. "Bombur! He yelled as he tossed the freshly cooked sausage to the portly Dwarf seated on the desk.

Bombur caught it, took one greedy look at the sausage in his hand, heard a dreadful creak and down he went. Food went flying. Everyone laughed, including Eryn.

This was a very special sight to Eryn, it was a literary moment that she always wanted to be a part of. Not necessarily the exact circumstances, but being here with the dwarves themselves, it was something she had wanted so desperately as a child. She's not sure why she wanted to be a part of the group of misfit dwarves, but somehow, she wanted to relate to them. Their laughter was contagious, and she enjoyed just observing the relationships displayed before her, it didn't last too long though, someone had been speaking to her, but she was too lost in thought to notice.

"Lass?" Dwallin said raising his eyebrows.

Eryn snapped out of her observations and turned towards him. "Hm?" she asked, to which he sighed deeply.

"Where did you come from?" he asked again

"Oh. Well... I'm from Michigan. Detroit to be exact, well, not exactly Detroit, just outside of the city." The company around the campfire looked at her confused, even the star-haired dwarf turned to look quizzically at her. She didn't think about her answer, she just answered naturally, of course they don't know what she's talking about.

"What's a Michigan?" Bofur asked scratching his nose.

"It's the state that I'm from." Eryn tried but she realized this was going to be much harder than she expected. "I'm from a place similar to this one, just very different."

"How so?" Dwallin asked skeptically.

"We don't have Elves, Hobbits or Dwarves, only Man. It's a very different place." They all looked around at each other, deep concern on their faces.

"No Dwarves?!" The star-haired Dwarf exclaimed.

"No Hobbits? No Elves?" Bofur followed. "Well, we could do without the Elves." He also muttered.

"That's a lot to take in, lass." Ballin said. "I would imagine your world is very different." He nodded.

"More than I could ever explain." Eryn admitted, then without warning a deep pang hit her stomach. She missed home already. Her Grandfather must be worried sick. "I can't wait to get home." She mumbled as she rested her chin on her knees tucked close to her chest. "I want to come with you." she said firmly.

"I don't think you're coming with us." Dwallin said with a grunt.

"But I-" Eryn began, but was cut off.

"The Wizard is the one who offered, not I, and seeing as this is my quest, he does not decide who accompanies us." Thorin's voice called from the doorway again, apparently, he was back with a vengeance.

"How am I getting home then?" She asked, the concern thick in her voice. Ballin, along with a few others looked at her troubled and conflicted.

"It is no concern of mine. I will not have a woman in my company, you'll only get in the way." Thorin bit once again.

Something in Eryn changed at this moment, what it was she didn't know, but it was a very familiar feeling or intention of preservation. It was a feeling she had felt only a few times prior to this, but the circumstances were very different.

"The only thing that will get in the way Thorin Oakenshield, is your arrogance." She clamped her mouth shut; she was just as surprised as he was at her sudden outburst. "I just want to get home, is that too much to ask?" she looked up at him, her jaw clenched.

"You don't know what you're asking, dear." Ballin said, his mouth pressed into a hard line.

"You have no idea." Eryn began, her voice shaking, much to her embarrassment. She only got choked up when she was angry. It wasn't fair.

For the first time in her life, she felt the overwhelming burden of knowledge. She was the only one who knew, the only one who knew the terrible fate that would take the lives of not only one, but three people. She couldn't live with herself if she just stood by and let it happen, she had to say something. Even though she desperately wanted to get home, she couldn't leave them to die; not if she could do something about it. She needed to find a way to instill her knowledge to them as invaluable, maybe it would convince them that they actually did need her.

"I know exactly what I'm asking. I know where you're going and what you will find." She tried to sound a bit cryptic without blowing the whole thing out of the water. She didn't intend to sound so dramatic, but it had the effect she was hoping for, many of the company exchanged glances of worry and curiosity. Dwarves did like to dig.

"Do not pretend to know anything about me or my kin, woman." Was all Thorin could say to try and defuse the questions that were rising in everyone's mind; it didn't work.

"I don't have to pretend." Eryn said as she stood, that was a lousy comeback, but she wasn't exactly a verbal Eris and needed to remove herself from the situation to think of a strategy. She obviously didn't have one and wanted to speak with Gandalf first before she made any irreversible statements; there were things that she couldn't change.

She brushed off her jeans, thanked them for the meal and decided to leave them to discuss her comment. Hopefully this would cause the right questions to rise and she could plead her case. There was no way they would believe her at first. So perhaps slow nudges in the right direction would be the best course for action for now.

Sure enough, as she turned to leave, Ballin was asking Thorin his thoughts and his thoughts were not kind.


	5. Mahal Knows

Eryn's exit didn't go exactly as she had pictured in her mind, she wanted a good comeback, a witty quip or a biting comment toward the mean things said about her, but that just wasn't who she was. Eryn was the type of person to think of a good comeback three weeks later in the shower while she re-lived the entire scenario, because something reminded her of whatever the circumstance was. She wasn't lazy, she wasn't a burden, she wasn't incompetent. These were all things she had heard before and at one time she used to believe them, but now she had no choice but to face the facts that she wasn't the sum of words spoken, even her own, she would be defined by action taken. Besides, they didn't know her and she didn't know them, the assumption seemed a bit unfair.

She walked up the stairs that lead above the veranda of the patio, the view was breathtaking, waterfalls, trees, rivers, incredible gardens, Eryn was so overwhelmed with the sight that she slowed her ascent. She looked down at the veranda, the flicker of fire was still dancing on the floor and laughter could be heard again.

She noticed a dark figure on the patio approach the railing and lean on it wearily, she could see that it was Thorin. His hair had fallen around his face masking most of it from view, he seemed to be pinching the bridge of his nose, clearly distressed. He opened his eyes and looked up the stairs after her, their eyes met for only a moment before Eryn broke away, embarrassed and hurried up the stairs.

As she approached the first turn of the stairs, she noticed someone standing there, overlooking the waterfalls. "Bilbo!" Eryn called out, scaring him.

"Oh, hello again." he paused to look behind her as a holler of laughter bellowed from below. "Miss Fey, am I correct?" he smiled at her.

"Yes, it's a pleasure to finally meet you." Eryn offered her own warm smile in return.

"What are you doing about so late?" He inquired.

"I've been a bit busy today and I haven't had a chance to eat until now." She walked closer to him and leaned on the railing that overlooked the most breathtaking sight she'd ever seen, Eryn sighed.

"It's beautiful isn't it?" Bilbo said awfully. He sighed as well, he also seemed like he had a lot on his mind.

"It's absolutely incredible." She paused to take in the splendor of the evening air, the crisp breeze and the smell of campfire mixed with something that smelled like jasmine. "Why are you up here and not with the others?" she asked Bilbo, although she could guess why.

"They won't be missing me." He said, rocking on his heels as he did when he was nervous or uneasy. "In fact, I know that none of them particularly like me."

"I certainly know the feeling." Eryn sighed. "Give it time, they'll warm up to you." She smiled down at him again, he shifted his eyes towards her unsure of what to make of the unknown woman standing next to him.

"I'm certain not. I don't even know why I came." He admitted, looking down. "I'm no help, I miss home, I'm not even a burglar."

"You are far more capable than you think, Bilbo." Eryn placed a hand on his small shoulder and gave it a pat.

"You sound like Gandalf." He chuckled.

"Well, Gandalf is a wise wizard, and I'm a wise…." she paused trying to think of a word to describe herself. "Lady." Eryn poorly settled. "Think of it this way, if more than one person said so, it must be true, right?" She chuckled.

"Maybe so." He gave her a halfhearted smile.

"I know so! All you need is a little encouragement and…" Eryn trailed off; Gandalf's words came to mind right before he left her, leaving her to the wolves. "...The right motivation." That was it, she could try and blunt-force her way into the company with snide remarks and being a 'know it all' or she could just be herself and encourage with motivation. She was kicking herself internally because of how easy it really was.

"What did you mean? You know the feeling?" Bilbo asked, breaking her train of thought. "Surely they don't dislike you." His cheeks grew a bit rosy and Eryn smiled at the endearment of his statement.

"Well, I'm not exactly a crowd favorite." Eryn admitted "But, I look forward to getting to know them, if they'll let me join them anyway. Some of them want to like me, but Thorin is a bit hard to convince." She placed her head in her hands as she leaned on the stone railing. "I'm obviously an outsider, but I want to help so desperately."

"Why is that? You're not even from Middle Earth. Your cares, I assume, would be elsewhere." He responded and then pursed his lips in confusion. Eryn raised her head and looked at the Hobbit, who was staring at her intently.

"Well… to put it blatantly, with no disrespect to Hobbits, I love Dwarves. Their passion and dedicated nature always amazed me, they can endure things that most can't and shouldn't. I want to help them take back their home and go home in the process. Everyone deserves to have a home." She looked down at the pools below and sighed once more. Rivendell was breathtaking, fare more than she could have ever imagined, even her own distant reflection in the water looked different than she remembered, it's like this place simply was beauty and everything in it responded in kind.

"You know, I've always wanted to see this place." Eryn spoke again after a few moments of silence. "When I was a little girl, I would cry because I would never get to see Rivendell, the Shire or Erebor, those places were only in a book for me, my imagination has done it a great disservice." she laughed under her breath.

"You've always wanted to see the Shire, why?" Bilbo questioned with astonishment.

"Because there is something so special about Hobbits as well. Your knack for making a hole in the ground into a home is amazing, plus I hear you're cracking good cooks." She laughed at the blush spreading over his cheeks. "To you it seems the small things don't go unnoticed."

"And Erebor?" He asked looking back out over the trees.

"Well, it's a sight to behold from what I've read, and the history is really incredible." Eryn's mind was beginning to flood with the unnecessary amount of information she learned over years of obsessive reading and study. "Did you know that long ago Aulë fashioned the Seven Fathers of the Dwarves in secret under the mountains of Middle Earth? Before the awakening of Elves or man." Bilbo looked astonished.

"I've never heard anything about Dwarves, or where they came from." he said narrowing his eyes, mulling over the information given to him.

"Aulë is the Master Smith, master of all types of craft and skills, he loves to make things and even fashioned the mountains of Middle Earth. He also loves to teach these crafts, which is why he made the Dwarves, so they could learn his craft."

"Ilúvatar, The Creator, didn't like that Aulë had made them in secret, so Ilúvatar forbade the coming of the Dwarves before his Firstborn Children, the Elves. To restore peace, Aulë put the Dwarf Fathers to sleep under the mountain until Ilúvatar awakened the Elves." Eryn stopped again to catch her breath, she loved sharing information and sometimes spoke faster than her lungs could keep up, Bilbo leaned in closer, intent on the story being told.

"The Dwarves know him as Mahal, the 'Maker', they consider him their father and teacher rather than Ilúvatar. When Ilúvatar challenged Aulë's right to make the Dwarves, Aulë took up his hammer, ready to destroy his creation. But Iluvatar stopped him as soon as he saw the Dwarf Lords recoil in fear, Ilúvatar saw that they were creatures with life of their own."

Bilbo still didn't say anything, he seemed to be a good listener, as he only nodded his head in understanding, and pressed his lips into a hard line, he was so expressive it made Eryn smile.

"One of the Seven Dwarf Lords, was Durin the Deathless, Thorin is a descendant of the line of Durin. So are Balin, Dwalin, as well as Oin and Gloin if I remember correctly, though I've yet to meet them." Eryn smiled at Bilbo widely, and he could see the excitement on her face.

Bilbo leaned back from the railing, stretching the tension from his back. "How do you know so much about Dwarf history, Miss Fey?"

"I just read. A lot. Dwarf history is told in my world, just differently." She didn't know how Bilbo would take being told he was just a story where she was from.

"How do you mean, different?" He inquired.

Eryn opened her mouth to speak, but a voice caught both her and Bilbo's attention.

"Of course, I was going to tell you, I was waiting for this very chance, and really I think you can trust that I know what I am doing." Gandalf's voice came from somewhere on the grounds, Eryn and Bilbo both searched to find his location.

"Do you?" Lord Elrond's voice replied. "That Dragon has slept for sixty years, what will happen if your plan should fail? If you wake that beast?"

Eryn looked down towards the ponds and saw Gandalf walking across a bridge below with Lord Elrond. Both her and Bilbo leaned forward, exchanging the look of two children eavesdropping on their mother and father. Knowing full well they shouldn't, but they were absolutely going to.

"What if we succeed?" Gandalf countered. "If the Dwarves take back the mountain, our defenses in the East will be strengthened. With Miss Fey's knowledge, the chances of success are hardly hindered. If anything this should help us a great deal."

"It is a dangerous move, Gandalf. Even with Miss Fey's help, you cannot promise no harm will come from this." Elrond shot back, he seemed to be more bothered than he was letting on.

"It is also dangerous to do nothing." Gandalf defended. "Oh, come. The throne of Erebor is Thorin's birthright, what is it you fear?"

Bilbo and Eryn exchanged another look, the conversation was becoming quite personal, Bilbo shifted backwards first, turning. Eryn followed his gaze, only to find Thorin himself leaning on the stair rail behind them, his arms crossed in front of his body, this was the most thoughtful Eryn had seen him all day. He was looking pensively past the two standing before him, listening to the accusations that were to be presented about him.

"Have you forgotten?" Lord Elrond asked. "A strain of madness runs deep in that family." Thorin's demeanor changed at those words, his brow set deep in disapproval. "His grandfather lost his mind, his father succumbed to the same sickness, can you swear Thorin Oakensheild will not also fall?" At those words, Thorin looked away, wounded, Eryn could tell that those words hurt him greatly.

"Gandalf, these decisions do not rest with us alone. It is not up to you or to me to redraw the map of Middle Earth." Lord Elrond said but this time his words were sterner, almost as if he was correcting a child.

"With, or without our help, these Dwarves will march on the mountain. They are determined to reclaim their homeland. I do not believe that Thorin Oakenshield feels that he is answerable to anyone, nor for that matter, am I." Gandalf's voice was barely audible by this point and Eryn couldn't hear well beyond the roar of the waterfall

Eryn turned to face Thorin and Bilbo, his brow set deeper than before. "Go." He commanded, both Eryn and Bilbo made to leave but he held out his hand to stop them. "Only you Master Baggins. I would like to speak with Miss Fey." Bilbo gave Eryn an apologetic look, then darted off back down the stairs.

"So, tell me." He began, leaning once again on the stair railing, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. "How is it that you know so much about my people? About Mahal no less." His voice was threatening in the gentlest way possible, perhaps it was the deep tone of his voice that made it sound so welcoming, it was smooth and warm.

"How much of our conversations did you hear?" She asked, slightly confused, does he keep missing the times she explained it? More importantly, did he hear the 'I love dwarves' speech? If so, Eryn wanted to crawl under a rock.

"Enough." He said, a small smirk played at the corner of his mouth, she was sure he heard. Eryn wished that whoever this Mahal guy was would strike her dead with his hammer instead. This was the first time Eryn had seen him do anything that resembled a smile, and it made her even more nervous.

"You've heard me explain myself on multiple occasions." Eryn started, but paused to find the right way to word her question. "You heard most of Lord Elrond and Gandalf inquiries, why do you keep asking a question you already know the answer to?" She stopped and looked down uncomfortably, she didn't mean to word her question so strongly.

"Because I do not trust you." He said flatly. "How does a woman from another world walk through a door to ours? Nothing in any of my readings has told of this." He pursed his lips. "More importantly, no woman such as yourself would want to aid in our quest. You must want something in return. If it's gold you're after, you can-" He started, but Eryn was too beyond disbelief to let him finish.

"I thought you said you heard enough of our conversation?" Eryn charged. "I don't want your gold! I want to help you because I can, and I couldn't live with myself if I let you attempt this kind of quest without it. I know you don't trust me and that's fine, I want to earn your trust, if I can. But don't think for a second that I want to help you for profit, there is nothing that you have that I want." Eryn crossed her arms tightly across her chest as well. "As for how a woman 'such as myself' walk through a door to Middle-Earth, well, I guess only Mahal knows." she shrugged as a gust of wind blew by, causing her to shudder.

"Mahal." Thorin said under his breath, raking his hand over his face down to his beard. "The wizard insists you can help us. What say you?"

"I would like to try." She nodded, looking down at her black Converse shoes, tapping her heels. "Besides, it's only to Mirkwood. You can just dump me at the entrance and go about your merry way. Wait. When did you speak to Gandalf?" Eryns mind was lacking in any current awareness of time.

"While you dined, I found the Wizard, sipping a glass of wine no less, and inquired as to why he insists upon you coming with us." He huffed, seemingly displeased.

"What did he say?" Eryns eyes narrowed, what could the wizard have told him to make this immovable rock budge?

Thorin raised himself from his relaxed position and stepped closer to her, she noticed that they were similar in height, she could look him square in the eye, but was perhaps slightly taller by half an inch or so. She bit the inside of her cheek, anticipating him to reject her, but he remained silent for a moment, his eyes held hers, seemed to be looking for something though Eryn couldn't say what; he examined her for what felt like an eternity before finally answering.

"I will warn you, do not expect to be coddled, you carry your own weight." He stood tall and distinguished before her. "I am not responsible for you reaching Mirkwood, alive or otherwise. Agreed?"

"Agreed." Eryn said in a soft voice, though that didn't answer her question. Thorin simply bowed his head diagonally towards her, not once breaking eye contact. He then turned quickly and descended the stairs.

"Now, pack your things quickly, we're leaving."


	6. Titles

Eryn followed behind Thorin as they descended the stairs, as soon as they neared the foot of the stairs, she noticed that it was far quieter than it had been before. The fire still flickered, and as they grew closer to the foot of the stairs, she heard whispers.

"He's coming back down!" Someone hissed, and a commotion began. There was clanking and shuffling.

"Move!" someone exclaimed.

"Ouch!" whined another.

As they turned the corner to the patio, Eryn noticed everyone looked suspiciously occupied. The two young dwarves were sitting on the ottoman, passing a sock back and forth bickering. Bofer was dusting his hat, the Star haired one was looking at something on the floor very intently. Bomber was tearing a loaf of bread in half, Dwalin was leaning on a pillar looking clearly not amused and his brother Ballin was still seated near the fire with the Axe head dwarf, discussing something in a language Eryn couldn't discern.

Thorin stood stationary, arms crossed once again, looking at the party of obviously "innocent" dwarves. "Pack your things, quickly." He moved to his nephews, handing the dark haired one a pack.

"What's happened?" Ballin asked, concern written deep into the lines on his face.

"They will try to stop us." He said brusquely. "Gandalf says we must leave before dawn, wake those who are sleeping."

Eryn watched as the entire patio became a dance of absolute chaos. Dwarves sprung up, cloths were tossed back and forth, pots and pans clattered, food packed and the fire smothered. The group in the back room gathered all bedrolls and a couple dwarves gathered the remaining furniture and piled it in a corner. It was while Eryn watched this choreography that she realized she didn't have anything to pack herself; panic rose in her stomach as she turned to find her way back to her room to gather her things as Thorin instructed. It wasn't much, only her side bag that had general daily necessities, nothing that could help her survive in the wilderness, what was she going to do?

She didn't get very far down the hallway before she saw a familiar face walking briskly towards her. It was Merodyn, she was carrying Eryn's bag in her arms, like the angel she was.

"Merodyn!" Eryn exclaimed. "You beautiful angel! You're a lifesaver!"

Merodyn blushed, she placed an arm on Eryn's shoulder and drew her back to the patio she came from. "Miss Fey, I'm so glad I caught you before you left!" Eryn froze, caught?

"Wait!" Eryn paused at the patio entryway, stopping Merodyn from entering, "You're not here to stop us, are you?" She asked urgently, looking up at the woman, discouraged and disappointed.

Her outburst was noticed, and a few Dwarves were beginning to gather by the door to offer a solution to the interference.

"Miss Fay, I must admit, I do not think it is wise and Lord Elrond will be most displeased." She sighed and looked at Eryn through her thick eyelashes. "However, I was informed by Gandalf that you will need assistance and it is my duty to do so. He said you would be leaving soon, and you needed your things brought to you as soon as possible." She bowed her head humbly and Eryn felt gratitude surge through her. "I also was instructed to make a small pack for you, as you did not have anything to make the journey with." She produced a travel pack like what the dwarves had, but it was a beautiful light leather with gold embroidery, fashioned to the bottom was a thick bed roll.

"Thank you so much!" Eryn flung her arms around the Elf woman. "Oh! My clothes!" She realized, hiking in a dress sounded awful.

"I have them here for you." Merodyn announced, and sure enough, she produced another bag with a drawstring and inside was Eryn's jeans, loose t-shirt, and hoodie. "I'll help you undress, and you can be on your way." At that comment all the Dwarves who had gathered around, quickly turned on their heels and scampered off.

Merodyn quickly led Eryn to an adjacent room and drew a thick curtain, giving them some privacy from the group. It was really a window curtain, but thankfully Elves were lavish with their décor. They perfectly curved, giving them a tight changing room. There was little room for movement, but Merodyn made do, as she did.

"My lady, why don't you wait and be accompanied by my people? You would be given safe travel to Mirkwood, plenty of food and supplies." She pressed, removing the sashes and pins.

"Well," Eryn paused, contemplating her words carefully. "We have the same goal, to get home, and it's not just about that. If I can help, even a little bit, that would be incredible." Eryn explained. "I've dreamed about doing this my whole life, it was only in my imagination as a child, but it would be a great honor to help with one of the greatest quests in Middle Earth history!" Eryn exclaimed with a triumphant nod, but then her voice dropped to a whisper. "And if I could save just one person…I'd walk further than Mirkwood, if I must." Merodyn stopped and stared at her with concern and sorrow in her eyes.

"What knowledge you know, my lady." She replied, and her hands continued working swiftly.

Within moments, Eryn was undressed and in her own clothes. She put her shoes back on and gave Merodyn a parting hug before she slung her backpack over her shoulder, returning to the company awaiting her. They looked at her expectantly and Eryn nodded, telling them that she was ready; so off they went.

They filed out quickly and surprisingly quiet for the bulls in a china closet that they were. Before Eryn knew it, they were crossing the threshold of Lord Elrond's home and onto the smooth road that many had walked before. No more buildings, stairs or comforts, this was Eryn's first steps into Middle Earth; she silently wished she got one more night's sleep in that enchanted bed.

They were ascending the mountain pass and Eryn turned to take one last look at Rivendell, she hoped that she would make it back here one day. The sun was just coming up over the mountains that surrounded this heavenly place, causing the sun to dance off the distant waterfalls, making it glisten warmly.

"Be on your guard," Thorin called, "We're about to step over the edge of the wild. Balin, you know these parts, lead on."

"Aye." Balin replied, stepping past Thorin to take lead of the party.

Eryn noticed that she wasn't the only one who had stopped to take in the view one last time before the wild consumed them. Bilbo sighed and Eryn understood the sentiment. He looked woeful and the temptation to stay played on his brow.

"Master Bagins, I suggest you keep up." Thorin commanded, he too was watching Bilbo stare longingly at the beautiful scene behind them. Bilbo merely nodded, took one more look and walked onward.

Up the mountain trail leading quickly out of Rivendell, it was surrounded by brush and thick spikey plants that made Eryn itch. Soon the mountainside trail turned into deep woods and they snaked through tall trees and stone. It was a truly beautiful sight, the snowy mountains on the horizon made Eryn shiver, realizing she also did not have a coat, she groaned. How ever was she going to do this

They seemed to have walked for many hours, but one look at Eryn's watch told her it had only been a little over 3 hours of walking.

The rocks we're more unsteady than she thought, as she stumbled and tripped more times than she would like to admit. The shoes she was wearing we're not for hiking purposes, and it showed in the lack of traction on the bottom of her shoes.

She wobbled and cursed when she slipped again for the hundredth time, only this time she was caught by a strong arm. She turned and saw one of the young Dwarves, this one was blonde with peculiar braids in his mustache. The darker haired one was standing beside him, a look of concern in his face.

"Careful there, don't want you to slip." He informed with a smile playing on the corners of his mouth.

"A bit too late for that." Eryn remarked.

"Fili," The blonde introduced, bowing. "At your service."

"Kili, at your service." The darker one followed suit and bowed as well.

"Eryn Fey." She replied, bowing her head, mimicking the two dwarves in front of her.

"Miss Fey," Kili began as Eryn turned to continue walking, "Is it true?" He asked, matching pace with her stride.

"Is what true?" She questioned; eyes narrowed.

"Are you a witch?" He whispered.

Eryn threw her head back and laughed. "Oh yes!" She choked through laughter. "I'm the scariest kind of witch there is." She tried to sober herself up, but still shook with humor, a smile wide spread across her face. The two dwarves walking with her looked deeply concerned for her well-being, but curious as to her proclamation.

"What kind of witch is that?" Kili inquired, eyes wide with wonder.

"The sarcastic kind." Eryn wiped tears from her eyes, remnants of the belly aching laugh she just had.

"What?" Fili asked, his eyebrows knit together closely. "What is sarcasm?"

"It's the use of irony, to mock someone." Eryn informed matter-of-fact.

"Irony?" Kili looked at his brother perplexed. "Uncle uses iron all the time in his work, are you a blacksmith witch? I've never heard of such a thing, but I'm sure Uncle would be quite pleased to know this." They both nodded in unison.

"No," Eryn laughed "Though I'm not sure what would be harder to explain, what pleases you Uncle or Sarcasm," Eryn wiped another tear from her eye. "When I say something sarcastic next time, I'll let you know." She smiled at them and they both looked even more confused.

"Uncle can be very agreeable, given the circumstances." Fili defended, and Eryn didn't challenge.

"I'm sure he can as well, I just don't know what those circumstances would be. We haven't exactly got off on the right foot, though that was mostly my fault." She felt the sour tang of embarrassment when she recalled her attitude last night, storming out, trying to be mysterious and threatening all in one. That just wasn't her.

"I'm sure you'll get to know everyone soon enough; we'll be spending a lot of time together and very closely." Kili encouraged, giving her a nod before Thorin called for him and he walked away quickly to catch up.

"So, where do you come from Miss Fey?" A small voice called to her from behind her, she turned and noticed Bilbo was walking behind her, she hadn't noticed him there, Hobbits really were quiet.

"I'm from Michigan," Eryn slowed her pace to walk in time with him, she was glad she wasn't the only one lagging behind.

"I've never heard of that place," Bilbo pursed his lips, something Eryn noticed he did often, he was very expressive. "What does it look like?"

"Its very green, a lot of forests and lakes," she looked around and noticed some similarities, only the trees looked a bit different. "It actually looks a lot like this, I've hiked many trails that look similar."

Bilbo nodded, then fell silent, he looked as though he had more that he wanted to ask, but thought better of it; thankfully Eryn had a lot of questions herself.

"What title do you prefer to be called?" She asked.

"What do you mean?" he eyes wide with surprise.

"What is your respected title? You are Master of Bag End, correct? Do you prefer to be called Master Baggins or Mister?" She inquired.

"Well…" Bilbo started, quite flattered, she had picked a good topic. "I would never expect my friends to call me by any such title. But for proprieties sake, I am called Master Baggins." He latched his thumbs into his suspenders and nodded. "You, however, may call me Bilbo." He warmly smiled at her and Eryn returned the favor.

"How about you?" Eryn asked, turning to the dwarf still walking with them, he looked up and shrugged.

"His excellence, or High Lord of the Dwarf Realms," He stood taller and pressed his mouth into a firm line, trying to look kingly. Someone ahead of them laughed and he looked at them with narrowed eyes.

"Wow, all of that hu? Good thing I know better." Eryn said with a wink and he gave a sly grin.

"For a lady such as yourself, just Fili would do." He nodded his head diagonally as Eryn noticed Thorin did as well.

"Do dwarves have surnames?" Eryn inquired.

"Surnames?" Fili replied. "No dwarf I've ever know has had one."

"I used to think that Oakenshield was your uncles last name, until I realized it was a name given by his feats in battle. Which reminds me, what does your Uncle prefer to be called?"

Fili had a lot of questions in mind for Eryn, but he figured he would save them for dinnertime. "I'm not really sure," He admitted, "We've only called him Uncle. I guess you'd better go ask him." He shrugged and smiled mischievously as Eryn nodded, quickening her pace to catch up with Thorin, who wasn't too far ahead. She passed a long chain of dwarves before almost catching up with him.

"Excuse me?" Eryn called, trying to get Thorin's attention. "Excuse me, er…" She paused, trying to remember what his title was… master? Lord? He was a king, but she never recalled anyone referring to him as 'highness'.

"Commander, sir, comrade, compatriot?" She spoke the first few that came to mind, earning her a few concerned and puzzled looks, she simply shrugged in response.

"What are you doing lass?" Dwalin asked scowling, but also slightly amused.

"I'm trying to get Thorin's attention, but I don't know what to call him." She admitted.

Dwalin narrowed his eyes at her and then called ahead. "Thorin, the Lass would like a word with you." He winked at her, without a trace of humor found on his face.

"What is it?" He asked turning, planting the heel of his axe handle firmly into the ground, making a satisfying thud.

"I just, wanted to ask you, what do I call you?" She asked, squinting in the sun high above.

Thorin looked at her, perplexed. "How do you mean?"

"What do I call you? King, Master? Mister? Master Oakenshield?" Eryn fumbled. "I just don't want to seem disrespectful of your position by referring to you inappropriately in front of your people." She tried to make out the expression on his face, but the sun was too bright behind him, so it surprised her when she heard a thoughtful hum escape him.

"I appreciate your desire to be respectful, but you are not my kin, there are is no title you owe me." Eryn understood what he was saying, but she felt the stab of disappointment in her stomach. She knew she wasn't a dwarf, or his kin, but she still wanted to feel a little included. She sighed and pushed her emotion to the back of her mind; this wasn't the time to get unreasonably offended.

"I understand, but I want to show you respect in front of your people, so they don't… disrespect me." Eryn admitted, though she wondered if she should have, Thorin tilted his head slightly, his head finally blocking the sun, she could see the concern on his face. "Not that they have! You were also kind enough to bring me along as well, I just want to show you the proper respect." Eryn said quickly, looking down at her shoes.

"They wouldn't disrespect you Miss Fey, you need not worry about that. You are a woman; they will show you the utmost respect." He nodded and then turned to walk.

"Wait! I have a question about that!" Eryn followed behind him quickly, though he was much more accustom to trekking over rocky terrain and smooth stone, she stumbled multiple times on loose stones. "Are there dwarf women? Are Dwarves born the natural way? Or do you pop out of holes in the ground?" She was smiling, remembering the joke Gimli spoke to Eowyn in the Two Towers. She was unsure if her joke would be acknowledged as such or if it would be highly offensive; she decided to take the risk. Thorin turned and looked at her once again with confusion and concern, Eryn also noticed a small rosy color playing on his cheeks. A few laughs came roaring from the company trailing past and she smiled sheepishly.

"We do not pop out of holes," He replied, short. "There are indeed dwarf women, though they are few, and they do indeed bear them, 'the natural way'. Now I assume you are familiar with childbirth, so I do not have to explain that further." His face flushed and he spun quickly to retreat from the awkward conversation.

"Don't mind him lass, he just wished he had someone to do things 'the natural way' with." Bofur blurted and Eryn's eyes grew wide as she stifled a chuckle. Thorin however, did not find this funny and said something sharp to Bofur in the unknown language. Eryn retreated from the inferno of rage that was about to be poured out on Bofur, shrugging apologetically as he looked back at her betrayed.

"You really have a way with words, don't you Miss Fey?" Fili said once she rejoined him and Bilbo at the back of the line.

"I don't think those were agreeable circumstances" Eryn admitted, Fili laughed.

"I'd say not, but we'll try again next time. I'm sure you'll be friends in no time." He patted her on the shoulder, and she was thankful for the encouragement.

"You can call me Eryn by the way." She offered. "I'd much rather work on being friends with people I haven't insulted or embarrassed. For now, at least."

"All in good time, Eryn. All in good time," He nodded to her. "Don't worry, my brother and I would very much like to be friends with you."

Eryn smiled and looked down at her shoes, grateful. She had made another friend, maybe this wouldn't be as hard as she thought.


	7. Crafts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who reviewed, and read ♥️

Eryn’s feat groaned as she fell onto the large stones that surrounded their camping site, she sat there, head in her hands, exhausted. Her stomach growled and moaned as they only stopped briefly for lunch and she hadn’t had much for dinner last night. She wasn’t sure how long she had slept at Rivendell, but she was sure it didn’t matter how rested she was after a walk like today.  
She remained at the tail end of the company the entire trek, Fili, was gracious enough to walk at her place so she did not get left behind, but it was also because he was tasked with taking up the rear, strongest in front and behind. He was polite enough to tell her he didn’t mind, but she knew her pace was testing his patience. It wouldn’t have been as bad if she had the right shoes, she silently cursed herself for being so stubborn about appearance over functionality. Though in her defense, there wasn’t much questing going on in Michigan right now. Her grandfather always told her that her feet would rebel against her one day and she would regret her footwear choices when she was older, but she didn’t have to wait until then, she most definitely regretted it now.  
Everyone was seated on stones as well, resting for a moment before camp was properly constructed. The sun was beginning to set and various members rose to do their respective tasks. Some began unpacking their bedrolls and others began gathering tools for dinner.  
Eryn rose, dusted off her jeans and walked to Balin, who was also seated comfortably on a rock.  
“How may I help?” Eryn asked, sitting next to him on the cool stone.  
“Well lass, have you any skills?” He inquired.  
“Um…” Eryn thought, though she could hardly call being double jointed a skill useful in this scenario. “I have camped before, so I’m familiar with starting a fire, gathering wood, don’t eat the berries, that kind of thing.” Eryn nodded, pursing her lips.  
“Well, have you hunted before?” he continued.  
“I have!” Eryn exclaimed. “My grandfather could hunt with a bow, but he didn’t get very far in teaching me.” she admitted.  
“I could teach you!” Kili hollard from an adjacent rock he was perched on, getting a view of the surrounding area. Eryn had no idea how he heard that from so far away.  
“Very well then, why don’t you gather firewood for now with Dori?” Balin directed, nodding firmly.  
“Sure thing!” Eryn rose from the rock which she was seated on and realised she had no idea who he was. “Balin, which one is Dori?” she asked and Balin gave a hearty chuckle.  
“He’s the sophisticate.” Balin nodded towards a dwarf who had hair almost as white as he, wearing a deep red tunic, cradling a teapot.  
Eryn thanked Balin and approached Dori, who had now put away his teapot, and was hitching his sword to his belt. The two met and went on their way to gather sticks and logs, anything they could find to start a fire and keep it going throughout the night. Eryn discovered that Dori had quite a fondness for the more sophisticated lifestyle as Balin had warned. He had a liking of fine wines, jewelry, clothing and most other things that brandish a posh lifestyle. He was not pompous as Eryn had expected, in fact she noticed that he was quite selfless in the way he cared and spoke about his brothers. He was the eldest amongst his brothers, Nori, whom Eryn had identified as the star hair dwarf and Ori, the dwarf with the bowl cut. He fussed a great deal, which grew to be exhausting to Eryn after a while, but he seemed to be passionate about his craft, which she discovered was herbs and embroidery.  
Once they got back to camp, they delivered the wood to two other Dwarves whom she had yet to meet, they introduced themselves as brothers as well, Oin and Gloin, whom Eryn recognised immediately.  
“What is your craft?” Eryn inquired of the two Dwarves while they stoked the fire.  
“I am a healer,” Oin boasted, “He is opinionated.” He mocked, jabbing a piece of firewood towards his brother. Gloin grew beet red and yelled something in their mother tongue  
“How long have you been a healer?” Eryn asked.  
“Hu?” He yelled, leaning in closer toward Eryn, pulling out a horn and placing it in his ear.  
“How long have you been a healer?” Eryn repeated, louder.  
“Oh! Many years, my dear. In fact, I have my own salve named after myself!” Oin declared. Eryn raised her eyebrows in an exaggerated look of surprise.  
“And what is it called?” She hummed.  
“Ointment!” He exclaimed, Eryn laughed. Of course it was.  
“Oin also acts as a midwife on the rare occasion a Dwarf woman gives birth, the natural way as you put it.” Bofur offered as he sauntered over and sat next to Gloin, who was trying to get a fire started.  
“Aye, personally delivered my nephew Gimli myself.” Oin said proudly, before Gloin shot up from his raised position near the newly sparked fire.  
“Delivered him? Dropped him on his head is what you did!” Gloin roared.  
“Who told you that?” Oin defended.  
“My wife!” Gloid demanded, smacking his brother upside the head. Eryn laughed merrily at the scene played out before her.  
“What’s so funny?” Gloin demanded, and Eryn sighed.  
“It must be nice to have siblings.” She mused. Gloin's internal fire dwindled and Oin exchanged a look with Bofur that Eryn didn’t want to interpret as pitty.  
“Do you not have any yourself?” Bofur asked, “You can have my cousin, Bifur.” He shot a thumb towards the Dwarf with the Axe in his skull and Eryn shook her head, laughing again, she seemed to be doing a lot of that today.  
“No, thank you, are all of you related?” She knew the answer but wanted to hear it from them.  
“Aye,” Bofur began. “Bifur, the Axe head, and Bombur, the big one, are my kin.” He nodded and moved to the next. “Dori, Nori and Ori, the Ri brothers. You’re met these two,” He motioned towards Oin and Gloin who nodded in return. “Dwalin and Balin. Lastly, Fili and Kili, strapping young lads.” He gave Eryn a playful eyebrow raise. “Last but not least, Thorin, their uncle. So I’d say yes, we’re all related by blood and in spirit.” Bofur sounded so proud of this small group of Dwarves surrounding him, and Eryn could see why. They each in their own unique way had something special to add to the group, like a perfectly crafted stew.  
At the thought of stew, Eryn’s stomach growled, causing the three seated with her to roar with laughter.  
“Bout time for supper miss? Bombur!” He yelled, and as if right on cue the portly Dwarf came walking over with a large pot in his hands. The stalks of carrots poked out of the top and her stomach ached with hunger.  
“Make room!” he shouted, as he pushed his way to the fire. “I’ll have supper ready in no time, if you’re not going to help, scurry off.” He commanded, all but Eryn rose and walked off.  
“Do you need help?” she offered.  
“Why yes!” he shouted, “Nobody usually offers to help make the meal, they only want to eat it. Not that I blame them.” He shrugged. He handed Eryn a knife along with carrots, celery, a few small potatoes and an onion; which made Eryn cry when she began cutting it.  
A few moments after they had begun cutting, Kili and Fili showed up with two large rabbits in hand, skinned and cleaned. It had been a long time since Eryn had rabbit for dinner and she couldn’t wait.  
“Eryn!” Kili exclaimed, approaching her quickly, “What happened? Are you hurt?” His question confused her until she realized her eyes were probably red and she had been crying from the onions.  
“Oh no,” Eryn wiped her eye with the back of her hand, “I’m only cutting onions, they make me cry a little.” She admitted, new tears forming in her eyes.  
“Do you want to know the secret to not cry?” Kili offered  
“What's that?” Eryn was indeed intrigued.  
“The secret is to not get emotionally attached to them.” He broke into laughter, scrunching his nose and holding his belly in humor. Eryn rolled her eyes and shook her head, playfully flinging her hand at him in a mock punch, which made him laugh even more.  
The meal was finished within the hour and everyone gathered merrily around the fire to partake in the stew Bombur and Eryn made, it was mostly Bomber’s skilled craftsmanship with food, but he didn’t let Eryn get away without a little credit for helping.  
She didn’t have a bowl, so she had to borrow one from Bomber, who had a spare; not to anyone's surprise. He said it was a backup, in case he lost his first, or simply wanted two bowls worth at once.  
She sat next to Kili who had graciously invited her to sit with him, his brother, Thorin, Boruf, Bifur, Bilbo, Dwalin, Balin and Ori around the warmth of the fire, “Miss Fey, many I ask you a question?” Kili began, “I have many questions really, but there is one that has been nagging at me since the first time you joined us.” He looked at her from under his eyebrows, that were tucked low over his eyes.  
Eryn nodded, nervous, whatever question could he have that warranted such a serious look?  
“What happens when you assume?” He questioned “And why does it make you and I an ass?” Kili asked so earnestly, that Eryn choked on her food from laughter.  
After a few moments of coughing and taking a large swig of water, she tried to explain it.  
“When you write out the word, it spells ass, you, and me.” She tried, but the look of confusion deepened on his brow. “Here, hang on.” Eryn rose and found her bag, in it was a notebook she kept and a pen, returning she wrote the word down on a piece of paper.  
“Ass – U – Me.” Eryn enunciated, and pointed to each part of the word parsed out on the page. “See?”  
With that he roared with laughter, and everyone wanted to see the joke that Eryn had told. She got mostly laughs, surprisingly Dwalin of all people, howled the most. She got a puzzled look from Bifur, a approving nod from Balin and a grunt from Thorin, though he did seem to be smiling; which Eryn wrote off as a success. 

After the laughter died Eryn decided to continue her feats in getting to know everyone. "Do you have a craft, Bofur?" she knew quite a bit about his brother Bombur but hadn't had the chance to inquire about his skills or passions.  
“Aye lass, I’m from a family of miners, but my real passion is Toy Making. Bifur and I were quite popular in Dale, before the dragon that is.” He answered, resentful.  
Bifur, hearing his name began yelling and waving his arms about, Eryn wasn’t sure if he was upset or excited. Upon closer examination, she noticed that he was making gestures with his hands, like sign language.  
“Oh, aye.” Bofur said in response, then muttered something back towards him, and the rest of the group around the fireplace nodded, Eryn felt as though she was missing out on something important being said, looking down at her shoes. She decided to take them off, they had been on her feet far too long, they ached for fresh air and a good stretch.  
"What language are you speaking? I've heard it spoken a few times, but I'm unfamiliar." She asked.  
"It is Khuzdul, the language of our people." Thorin chimed in, the first he had spoken at dinner.  
"It is a language rarely heard by outsiders. Not recorded by Elves or Men. It is a secret language, none other than Dwarves can learn it." Balin informed, much to Eryns disappointment.  
"It's beautiful. Sounds a lot like Hebrew or Russian, some mix of the two. I like it a lot.” She sighed.  
“What is that?” Fili asked, throwing a bone into the fire, causing sparks to fly into the air.  
“Those are languages where I come from. It’s hard to explain, if I could speak some for you, I could explain better, but I don’t know much.” She admitted.  
“Are there many languages where you come from?” Ori leaned closer, Eryn had honestly forgot he was there, he was so silent, jotting things down in his parchment.  
“Oh yes, there are more than 6,000 languages where I come from.” Eryn exclaimed and everyone around the campfire gasped.  
“Six thousand?!” Ori cried, “How do they record them all?”  
“Well, they can’t. There are around 2,000 of those languages that have fewer than 1,000 speakers.” she explained.  
“Wow, you are quite knowledgeable Miss Fey.” Bilbo admired.  
“I just love languages, I was learning Russian for a while, but had to stop because I was too busy,” Eryn shrugged, and went on. “I learned a lot and understood once when someone insulted me. I had a good comeback for them, but I was so excited I understood what she was saying, I didn’t care that she said I ‘looked like trash’.” Eryn looked down at her bare feet, warming by the fire. “How much better life would be without offense.” she mused to herself quietly.  
“That’s the way of the world, others will offer offense as they please.” Thorin glowered.  
“Well, then chose not to take it.” Eryn offered, and Thorin scowl grew deeper.  
“You think it that simple?” He challenged, and Eryn shrugged.  
“Well, yeah,” She looked deeper into the fire now, the warmth prickling her face. “That’s how it works. It’s like a crappy gift that someone gives you, you decide whether you pick it up or not. With offense, you can choose to take it and unwrap the gift of bitterness, or you can refuse it and go about living your life. The only variable is what you choose to do with it.” She explained, turning to look at him now, his narrow eyes held hers for a long time. He looked as if he was searching for something in what she had said, his stare was broken only by a hearty laugh and he turned his head sharply, but not after giving her a silent nod.  
"You seem wiser than your age, Miss Fey." Balin complimented.  
"Nah, I've just lived a lot of life in the past 26 years." She smiled weakly.  
“Do you have a family?” Balin inquired.  
“I live with my grandfather, he’s probably close to your age?” Eryn mentioned without thinking, earning her a few laughs.  
“I wouldn’t bet on it, lass.” Dwalin assured.  
Eryn’s cheeks grew warm, of course he wasn’t, he only looked like it. “I meant; you look like you could be the same age. But you seem to be better off than him, he’s quite sick, I moved to live with him after my grandmother passed.” Eryn spoke, her voice grew weak as she thought about her Grandfather by himself again and her eyes pricked with tears.  
“You live with him, to help him? I’m sure he’s very grateful.” Bilbo offered trying to defuse the waterworks brewing in Eryn’s eyes. “How about your other family, parents perhaps?”  
“They are still close to my grandfather, but I haven’t lived with them for a long time. I was living far away when my grandfather got sick, so I moved in with him to help him manage his store. A lot of other things fell apart in my life, so the timing was perfect.” Eryn admitted, though she didn’t exactly want to elaborate.  
“How about a spouse?” Bofur inquired.  
This was the question Eryn was dreadingband they approached it far faster than she was expecting. Her legs began to bounce and shake, she fidgeted with the drawstring of her sweatshirt hood, biting her lip. She was not prepared for the tsunami wave of frustration to surge through her; she took a deep breath and composed herself.  
“Gentlemen,” Eryn started, raising from her seated position near the fire. “On that note, I will say my goodnight.” She smiled her best deceptive smile, but it was not effective; the looks she received were confusion, and concern..  
“Miss Fey, have I said something to offend you?” Bofur begged.  
“No, not at all!” Eryn assured, “I would just like to keep a few secrets of my own.” She admitted, picking up her shoes and walking away from the warmth of the party seated around the campfire. She caught Thorin’s eye as she turned, they seemed narrow and critical, his brow a tight line. She couldn’t hold his eye for long and turned away with her eyes trained on her feet. The stones she walked upon hurt her feet, but she didn’t mind, they hurt anyway.  
She found a spot under an overlapping of two large boulders with a lip that gave some shelter and she drug her belongings to her own hole in the ground. She didn’t want shelter from the outdoors as much as she wanted to hide from her embarrassment. She felt dreadful.  
After picking out a few stray stones from her sleeping quarters, she laid out her bed roll and found a blanket rolled up inside, she was thankful that Merodyn had done something so kind for her.  
Eryn laid in her bed for a long while, listening to the chatter, the laughter and the crackle of fire, her blanket was pulled up to her nose. This was awful. How could she be this melancholy? It amazed and scared her how quickly she wanted to be included, then to desperately try to get away, it was like her mind hit the eject button and before she knew it, she had checked out.  
How was she going to do this? Eryn thought as she covered her face and cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please R&R I love constructive criticism and feedback! 👌🏻


	8. Black Eyes and Wounded Pride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!  
> I'm a little nervous about the dialog here, please let me know if something sounds funny, or just out of character.  
> Update** I updated the dialog here because I cant believe I forgot that golf is a thing in Middle earth! So, that has been updated.  
> Please R&R and enjoy~! -B

Eryn awoke the next morning, stiff and sore. Her body ached from their trek yesterday, also from the vigorous shaking her body did throughout the night. Sleeping in a small shallow cave was not a wise idea for temperature sake. She stretched as best she could, twisting and turning, audible pops taking roll call of her aching joints.

She slunk out and looked around, it was the small hours of the morning, the sun had yet to rise and only half of her companions we're awake. She noticed that not far off from where she slept, to her right Fili and Kili were sprawled out on their own bed rolls, also to her left was the Ur family, clumped together close to her hiding place.

The night before last Eryn wanted nothing more than to be included, so much so that she acted out of character and was beyond obnoxious. Now she felt like she had succeeded on the dramatic exit she wanted that night and she was more than embarrassed. Eryn also knew that she overthought way too much.

Before she packed up her things, she decided to look through what Merodyn had packed for her. In her pack were two pairs of trousers, two tunic shirts, gloves, and leather straps, which she had no idea what they could be used for. Inside was also a comb, a pouch of oils, soap, a strip of cloth and some strange balm in a jar. There were also food rations, a rope and a skin of water, which she had found early yesterday, though the water was almost gone much to her disappointment.

She put on her shoes and packed her things, as noticed that the camp was starting to become a little livelier while others began to stir and wake.  
Eryn found Bombur, as she was sure she would always find him, next to the fire cooking a large pot of something that resembled porage. She inquired as to where he got his water and he directed her to a small stream not thirty feet from where they were camped. She thanked him and walked with her water skin, the strip of cloth and bar of soap in hand.  
When she found it, she noticed she was not the only one who was washing up and refreshing their water for the day. Eryn knelt by the creek and splashed frigid water onto her face, rubbing the soap liberally onto her hands to scrub her face with, careful not to get it around her eyes. After rinsing, she rose, rubbing her face dry with the cloth she found in her bag. When she looked up she saw both Fili and Kili approaching the water, both of their eyes widening when they saw her.  
"Eryn!" Fili exclaimed, "What's happened to you?!" He ran to her, grabbing her shoulder he began herding her back to camp.  
"Wha-?" Eryn began while Kili walked briskly beside her, his eyes burning and looking around like a hawk. "What the hell are you guys doing?" Eryn demanded.  
"What's happened to you?" Fili demanded again in return. "Why do you have bruises under your eyes?" He spun her to face him, both of his hands planted firmly on her shoulder, his eyes darting to every surface of her skin exposed, searching for more injuries. Many others had noticed the commotion and gathered around; their faces all mirrored the two dwarves holding her captive.  
"What is the meaning of this?" Dwalin boomed, looking Eryn up and down as well, now she was more confused than ever.  
“Will someone, please, explain to me what is going on?" Eryn yelled.  
“You have two black eyes Lass!" Bofur exclaimed and said something under his breath in Kazadul.  
"I have what?!" Eryn cried, touching her nose, then the bone around her eyes, examining to see if she had injured herself, she didn't feel any pain or tenderness.  
Thorin approached now, fire deep set into his eyes, "What's happened to her?" He hissed, taking her chin in his hand and turning her face to examine it. Eryn blushed, pulling her face away from the very personal inspection.  
"We don't know, Uncle!" Kili said, "We found her like this by the creek this morning!"  
Eryn, being in a panic, broke free from the small circle around her. She rummaged through her bag and rejoiced when she found the one small compact mirror she usually forgets. She opened the mirror and examined her face, but much to her surprise and relief she didn't have a broken nose or any injury, but what she did have was violently smudged makeup. Her makeup from the day before was smudged so badly she looked like a rabid racoon. Fili and Kili were right to think that she had a black eye and we're not exaggerating in the slightest. She forgot she was wearing makeup when she washed her face this morning. Sighing with relief, Eryn grabbed her rag, poured some of her fresh water over it and rubbed in a little soap. Praying to the makeup gods that this soap wasn't Elvish magic eraser soap that would wipe her eyes clean off.  
When she finished wiping her face, paying extra attention to not get it in her eyes, she shook her head, laughing.  
"You really are a witch!" Kili exclaimed, the rest of the company was equally shocked and confused. "You healed your wounds so quickly.  
"Durin's beard." Oin breathed, eyes bulging.  
"Now I see why the wizard wanted you to join us." Thorin decided.  
"What?" Eryn stared in disbelief. "That wasn't magic. It was makeup!" she explained, exhausted.  
"Make up? What are you trying to make up?" Fili asked, scratching his nose.  
"No, its makeup." Eryn sighed, digging in her bag for her small zipper pouch of travel makeup. She pulled out her tube of mascara and held it out for him to take. "Where I'm from, women wear makeup to change their appearance, or feel prettier." She explained. They each took turns inspecting the foreign item, opening the tube and looking at the wand, some sniffed it; others, much to Eryn's horror, tried to lick it.  
"But why would women want to change their appearance?" Bilbo asked, scrunching his nose. "Like a disguise?"  
"No, it's hard to explain, but some women use makeup to compliment parts of their face they like, because they like it. Some of them want to disguise themselves, you could say... but usually it's because they want to cover something up." She pointed to a dark birthmark below her cheekbone, close to her left ear. It was dark but Eryn could cover it easily with her hair. "Like this. If I want to cover this up, I use makeup. Or if I want to feel prettier, I wear this makeup." she said, taking back the tube of mascara.  
"Miss Fey, your world sounds very strange." Bofur said, taking off his hat like he was mourning. "Women are beautiful, though some are a little sore to sight. There's always a lad willing to look them in the eye every morning." He nodded, slapping his hat back on his head.  
"I think it's preposterous!" Gloin shouted, "They don't need it! Why, if my wife were any prettier, Mahal himself would be asking for her hand."  
"What's wrong with wanting to polish the silver every now and then?" Dori retorted.  
Eryn could tell there was an uproar about to begin, but so did Thorin. "All of you, back to your tasks, Miss Fey has had enough attention for the day, and the sun hasn't even fully risen." He said as he shot her a steely look. "Prepare your things, we leave as soon as we have eaten. Bombur, see it done." He shot, everyone mumbled responses and sauntered off.  
Eryn shot her eyes downward and she fumbled with the zipper of her makeup bag while she tried to put her things away quickly. Every time Thorin and her were involved in the same conversation, she made a fool of herself, or he seemed inconvenienced at least. She pursed her lips and sighed. But was she really going to just run away every time there is a spark of confusion or conflict? Eryn took a deep breath, clenching her eyes shut. She turned and tried to find Thorin, she would get this sorted out before her offense grew, just like she preached yesterday, she didn't need to get stuck in a crazy cycle of misunderstanding.  
She looked around the camp for Thorin but didn't see him anywhere. She turned in the direction of the creek and decided to try there. Replacing her pouch in her bag and grabbing her water skin once again she strode down the small path to find him.  
Sure enough, kneeling by the stream was Thorin. He turned at the sound of footsteps and sighed.  
"What is it Miss Fey?" He asked, splashing water on his face.  
"I just," Eryn began, as she played with the cap of her water skin. "I feel as though we've got off on the wrong foot." She admitted, looking down at her shoes.  
Thorin rose, standing before her incredulous, his lips parted as if he was going to say something, but instead he remained silent. Staring at her for a long moment, tactically assessing how to proceed. "How do you mean?" He finally asked.  
"I know that you don't want me here, I just don't know what I did to make you not like me." Eryn admitted, crossing her arms across her chest. "You seem bothered by everything I say and do."  
"I said I do not trust you, not that I do not like you. Don't stoke the fire that you're trying to put out." He challenged; Eryn felt the guttural punch of his honesty. "I am not my nephews who are fond of conversation with strangers, which worries me for other reasons, but we will not discuss that now." He crossed his arms across his chest, standing firm and tall. "There are lines I must draw with how I lead my people. I am a king without a throne, but a king no less. These men agreed to follow me, yourself included, on a perilous task no less, some are not even warriors, but they agreed to follow me." He paused, looking past Eryn at the group of Dwarves. "I must choose when to be a friend and when to be a king. So, I will be what I must, when I must, even at the expense of the feelings of others." Thorin looked at her with his mouth set into a hard line, but it wasn't without humor as they edge his mouth was beginning to curl upward "It has nothing to do with liking you, do not assume, Miss Fey, you know what it does."  
Eryn felt the creeping burn of embarrassment flood her cheeks.  
"That's my line!" Eryn said with a hint of pride, he was using her jokes. "I did assume didn't I?" Eryn asked, pinching the bridge of her nose and shaking her head. "And I certainly made myself out to be an ass." She sighed, latching her eyes onto her feet again. Thorin was silent as she stood there, patient enough to let her work it out, much to her surprise. Eryn realized that she didn't know these people at all. Just because she had read about them and knew them, doesn't mean she truly knew who they were. She took such care to ask questions of everyone else that she forgot to include him. It had only been a day as well, how well can you get to know someone in a day?  
"I'm so sorry, I made something out of nothing." Eryn whispered after a long silence, "I guess, I thought because I knew you, that I knew who you are." She sighed again, but picked her head up and looked him in the eye, he stared at her searching. "Can we start over? I feel like I've just made a fool of myself every time we've spoken."  
"You have," He verified, "and as for being bothered by everything you say and do, once again, I do not know you. You are a stranger who speaks of things I do not understand, things you should not know and you've admitted to having secrets, why should I trust you?" he challenged further.  
"Well, I'm willingly here, aren't I? I want to help you because I can, and because whatever it was that Gandalf told you is worth something isn't it?" Eryn pursed her lips and shrugged, she still wanted to know what Gandalf told Thorin that night, and she didn't intend to say anything to him about her knowledge of their story until she did so.  
"As to my secrets, like you said, I don't know you. Some secrets are things that don't pertain to our mission at hand. What does it matter if I'm married or where my family is?" She challenged him in return.  
"It matters because you are a woman. If you were married it would be a great dishonor for you to be traveling in the wilderness with men other than your spouse. We value your propriety." He stated. Eryn knew that Dwarves held women in high respect, but this was exceptional awareness, though not to the circumstances at hand.  
"Even if I was married, my husband wouldn't be here, remember? I opened that door and now I'm stuck here. Unless he came with me, the circumstances would still be the same." Eryn shrugged, uncapping her water to take a drink. Bickering was exhausting. "I have to get back home regardless of my marital status."  
"Your logic is sound." Thorin admitted, and he shifted his weight uncomfortably.  
"So, can we start over?" Eryn asked again, this time extending a hand. "Or at least do our best to be cordial?"  
He acknowledged her hand for a great while looking at it as if it were a snake. Finally after a hearty sigh, he took it and nodded his head towards her. She wasn't sure if it was because he didn't want to be cordial or if he didn't want to touch her.  
"So tell me," Eryn started, "Are you confident?" She asked, refilling her water skin.  
"Confident in what?" He asked, perplexed.  
"In your quest." She informed, a warm smile playing on her lips.  
"I honestly cannot say," He admitted, much to Eryn's surprise. "They're not all warriors, the lot of them are craftsmen at best. But they're loyal, when I called, they answered. That is all I could ask for. Though I fear I cannot lead them well." Eryn saw for just a moment a small crack in the armor. Why he admitted this to her, she did not know, and by the look on his face, he was perplexed by his honesty as well.  
"Well, have you ever done anything like this before?" Eryn asked, feeling emboldened.  
"Like what?" His eyes narrowed.  
"Taken a small group of people to slay a dragon?" Eryn explained.  
"Well, no. Though we have faced the dragon before, but not like this." he said  
"Then I'd say you're par for the course." she shrugged.  
"You and your otherworldly phrases." he muttered. "What in Durins name does that mean?" his hands clenched at his side.  
"You’re familiar with golf right?" She asked, with an eyebrow raised.  
“I am,” He nodded, eyes narrowed. “What does golf have to do with slaying a dragon?” he asked.  
“Well, nothing,” Eryn admitted sheepishly, “So, considering you've never done this before and you're making all the right swings, in all the right ways. You're on your way to making par for the course!” She extended a smile, though he did not return the gesture, the tightness in his jaw released. "You're doing enough, and you're going to do great." Eryn mused.  
Thorin, diagonally nodded his head, then turned from her, his eyes were set on something far in the distance. Eryn wasn't sure if he was mentally still there or not. He seemed to be deep in thought so Eryn decided that was her queue to leave him to his thoughts, turned and returned to camp.  
When she arrived back, Bombur had finished breakfast and everyone had gathered around the campfire to enjoy their porridge. She borrowed a bowl again, and vowed to make her own if necessary, but Bomber encouraged her to keep it until they got to a place where she could purchase her own.  
They all sat merrily, but everyone seemed slightly tense, Eryn wondered if that was her fault.  
"What were you and Thorin discussing?" Bilbo asked, when Eryn took a place beside him at the fire.  
"Oh, just how big of an idiot I am." Eryn admitted. "That and golf."  
"You're hardly an idiot, Eryn." Bilbo said, shaking his head. "Wait, did you say golf?"  
"Well, I sure feel like an idiot." She said before she took a big bite of her food, she wasn't sure what it was, but it was incredible. It tasted like a warm, buttery but salty-sweet biscuit. "Bobur, I think you're the real wizard here." She said as she shoved another spoonful in her mouth.  
"Hardly!" Bombur said with a hearty laugh, "I'm just passionate about food!" He exclaimed, shoving a large spoonful in his mouth.  
"Me too," Eryn sighed. "Me too."  
"So, what did you and Uncle speak about?" Fili asked, sitting down across from her.  
"Why were you discussing golf?" Bilbo asked again, pursing his lips, almost in a pout.  
"Golf?" Kili asked, sitting beside his brother. “I didn’t know Uncle liked golf…” he muttered. Others around the campfire perked up with interest as well.  
As the warm amber morning sky broke behind them, everyone finished their breakfast, discussing the game of golf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's ready for some action and adventure next week?!


	9. Pulling Weight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, hope you're ready for some action/adventure chapters, as well as the longest chapter to date in this fic. (Yay!)  
> I noticed this week while I was writing that I fell into the trap that every writer faces at least once. I began writing the story I though people wanted to read, instead of telling the story I wanted to tell. So now that I've found my way again, I'm excited to share this with you.  
> Please Enjoy!
> 
> -B

The sun was high on this unknown day of travel. Eryn wasn't sure if it had been weeks or days, but she was sure of one thing, she was not prepared for a quest. Her body shook violently as another biting gust blew past, the sun reflected off the tightly packed snow all around them and her eyes ached from the squinting so harshly.

She was wearing both of her tunics over her shirt, and her hooded jacket over that. Ori had also offered her an additional jacket that he brought; which she took merrily, thanking him profusely for hours. She had her extra pair of loose trousers over her jeans and was wearing the gloves that she found in her pack. Her feet were taking the worst beating out of it all though. They were sore, but thankfully her blisters were given the chance to callous over, thanks for a few bandages Oin was able to wrap her feat in. But once she recovered from those, she found a new one somewhere else, so she had taken to wrapping both of her feet in bandages under her socks. The additional layer helped, but the cold was her worst enemy now.

Eryn thought back to the days leading up to her stepping over the threshold to Middle Earth, she craved adventure, and now she indeed had it. Probably a little too much adventure. She hadn't walked this much in years, and to say she was out of shape was an understatement, but she could tell already that her endurance was growing, and her jeans were already growing loose around her legs. She was also eating a lot less, but they always had enough. Every evening she ate her dinner, had a merry gathering around the campfire, massaged her feet and went to bed. Sometimes she would fall asleep before she got her dinner, but someone would always place a full bowl next to her. If she woke past dinner, she would sneak back to the fire and eat her portion with whoever was on watch.

All things considered; Eryn was in very good spirits. Middle Earth was breathtaking. She had grown up most of her life in a rural area, so trees and the outdoors were not a stranger to her; this was different. Even the snowy mountains were breathtaking in their bitterness. There was something so freeing to Eryn about this trek, it was like the ultimate camping trip.

She had started picking any flower or leaf that was distinctly unique to Middle Earth. She would write down what the flower looked like, asked Dori for its name and then pressed them in her journal. Her journal was already groaning at the access between its pages.

,

"Why do you do that?" Bilbo had asked her one day, picking up an identical leaf that Eryn was documenting in her journal, spinning it between his fingers.

"Because I'm interested." Eryn muttered. "I really like trees and plants in general. I've been interested in most botany and agriculture since I was a child. I took a few college courses, but never finished" she admitted, snapping her journal shut.

"You took classes about trees?" Bilbo asked, "Also, what is college?"

"It's extended learning for people who want to learn about something specific, or for someone who just wants a broader education." She said as she packed her things to catch up to the others before they noticed she was lagging behind. Though Fili was waiting patiently with them, as he always did, it never bothered him that she stopped to smell the flowers every now and again.

"And you never finished?" He inquired, his hands gripping his pack straps.

"No, I never did…" Eryn sighed. "I was about to, but something came up."

"What did? You're being oddly vague." Bilbo accused, much to Eryns surprise, he was being far more forthright with her lately than usual.

"Because I don't finish anything, Bilbo." She shot her eyebrows up at him, challenging him to continue, which he did.

"That? Coming from the woman who is supposed to be our 'Adviser'? Don't let Thorin hear." Bilbo asserted.

Eryn had signed her contract with Thorin and company a few nights prior, it took Balin some time to write the contract as it was rather lengthy to say the least. It had at least 40 major sections, numerous footnotes and digressions in smaller writing. Once she received it, she took the time to read it in full, much to Thorin's displeasure as he wanted to watch her sign it. At first it started as a joke, because Eryn saw how impatient he was being about it, but then she was taken aback by the contents of the contract. It was a surprisingly legitimate contract, though Eryn questioned the enforceable rules of jurisdiction, as she is not actually from Middle Earth. Not wanting to make Thorin dislike her more, she simply signed it, without questioning the jurisdiction. Her official roll: "Additional Adviser." Eryn was hoping Balin would give her the title of "Witch" but she wasn't one, so therefore could not claim that title.

"That's Additional Adviser, to you. I believe Balin is 'Head Advisor'." Eryn grinned.

"Additional, conditional, expositional. It's all the same" Bilbo muttered, sourly.

"You're a tall glass of sass today. What's wrong?" Eryn asked.

"I'm just so exhausted," Bilbo admitted with a sigh. "I do what I'm asked, even beyond that and still get barked at for no reason." he murmured. " I just feel very unwelcome."

"Oh Bilbo," Eryn softened, placing a hand on his shoulder, she understood the feeling. "You're doing your best. That's all anyone can ask of you." she encouraged, but Bilbo still slumped his shoulders.

"I just can't shake the feeling that I shouldn't have come." He turned his face away from her, ashamed.

"Well, don't forget Bilbo, you're more capable than you know, and your strength is in the little things. Things people don't even notice and you never once beg to be acknowledged for it! You don't understand how important that is." She looked up at a small flock of birds flying overhead and she smiled. "Beautiful things don't ask for attention."

Bilbo stopped walking, her but Eryn kept on. Maybe he wanted a moment to himself. She wasn't sure, but he wasn't stopped for long as Thorin was calling loudly for everyone to keep up.

The rain began to fall as they slowly began the narrow ascent up the narrow mountain pass and the sky grew darker and darker as storm clouds rolled in. Soon Eryn didn't know whether it was day or night.

The stone was so slick, Eryn was sure this was the day her shoes killed her and she was going to fall to her death; unfortunately, she also had a small fear of heights. The trail itself was so narrow Eryn wasn't sure how someone like Dwalin or Gloin could walk with their Axes protruding out from their backs.

The steady fall of rain turned into a torrential downpour the further they progressed up the mountain. Thunder cracked, causing the ground to shake, and the rain caused a haze to fall over the canyon to their right. Eryn pulled her hood up to shield her head from the deluge, but it was no use; everything was soaked. The wind blew strong and steady as she pressed in tighter, gripping the rock wall to her left. She kept her eyes locked on the floor beneath her, so she didn't step on any loose stones.

She heard the thunder crack again, coupled with a firm gust.

"Steady!" Thorin boomed over the sound of the rain. "Hold on!"

Everyone was walking in a single file line and she trailed closely behind Dwalin who a steady arm was if she needed assistance, though he didn't willingly sign up for that task.

Eryn looked up from her usual downward cast just in time to see Bilbo who was between Dwalin and Bofur, slip on unsteady stones. "Bilbo!" she called as he cried, fumbling for anything to catch onto, but there was nothing. He fell forward, but not before Dwalin caught him by the shoulder, Bofur quickly grabbed onto him as well, pulling him toward the stone wall behind them. Bilbo breathed a sigh of relief as he stood there for a moment, catching his breath.

Eryn's heart was beating like a hummingbird's wings inside of her chest. She realized this wasn't a fun camping trip anymore. She could very well slip just like Bilbo and fall to her death, or worse, she could cause someone else to slip and fall. She clenched her jaw and gripped the side of the wall tighter. This was not how she wanted to die, if she was going to die in Middle Earth, it would not be because she was a klutz.

"We must find shelter!" Thorin demanded.

Suddenly there was a crack, it was like thunder, but there was no flash of light to follow; as the pattern usually was.

"Look Out!" Dwalin yelled, stopping dead in his tracks, causing Eryn to bump into him.

Everyone looked up and saw with horror that there was a large boulder careening towards the mountainside they were one.

At first it looked like it was going to hit them, and Eryn pressed deeply into the side of the mountain, preparing for the impact and sudden death. But instead it hit just above them, everyone shouted as it showered debris and stone upon their heads. Eryn shut her eyes and ducked, covered her head instinctively, shielding her head from the heavy stone falling from above.

"Look out!" Gloin boomed above the noise, clutching his brother to his side.

"Hold On!" Kili cried.

When Eryn opened her eyes, she saw that Dwalin was leaning over her, with an arm shielding her as well as himself from the rocks pelting them from above.

"This is no thunderstorm!" Balin called. "This is a thunder battle!" And The mountains began to shake once more. "Look!" He pointed to the far side of the cliff and as he said those words, the mountain began to rise as if it was being summoned.

It stood tall and Eryn was shaking. This was the most awful thing she had ever witnessed, but that reverence quickly turned to fear as the Stone giant grabbed a clump of rock it had emerged from.

"Well, bless me." Bofur exclaimed, awestruck. "The legends are true! Giants! Stone giants!" He took a step closer, brushing past everyone, to get a better look at the edge of the cliff.

The Giant hurled the projectile and Eryn braced for another impact, but she then noticed that it wasn't aimed at them. She turned, along with everyone else to see that a second Stone Giant had emerged behind them. The flying rock hit it square on, causing it to fall into the mountainside and the ground to shake again. The already critically damaged rock wall came pouring down upon them again. "Take cover, you fool!" Thorin shouted at Bofur and Kili pulled him back towards the side of the mountain.

Rocks poured out like a waterfall, breaking away some of their walkway making the path narrower than ever. Eryns immediate fear was that the walkway beneath her would crumble as well. The ground shook stronger and the mountain began to split, causing a rift, separating them into two groups.

"Fili! Grab my hand!" Kili called as the ground was breaking between the two brothers. The look on Kili's face was agony as they were pulled apart.

"Hang on!" Eryn cried, as she reached for Fili from her position, grabbing hold of the back of his backpack so he didn't fall as the ground shook more violently than ever before. It became apparent what was happening, as they began to sway and lurch. They caught an unwelcome ride on a stone giant of their own.

It rose just in time to receive a sturdy head butt from the other Giant, causing it to fall backwards once again. Eryn clung to the side of the wall, her eyes clamped shut and her stomach in knots.

As they fell, the other leg contacted the remaining lip of their pathway, enabling the other party to leap off of the giant; Eryns group was not so lucky. Thorin's group watched in agony as the remaining party was thrust once again away from them.

They bobbed and swayed as they Giants fought; Eryn was in just as much awe as she was terrified. She thought hard for a moment what the outcome was in the story and remembered everyone getting out ok, but she forgot one small detail. There were more people on this ledge then there were supposed to be, she was an unexpected addition to the equation.

As the leg swung out once again, and their Giant was met with another impact. Whether with a fist or flying stone, Eryn wasn't sure, because Fili had slipped. Thankfully, she was close enough and saw it just in time to catch hold of his arm, throwing herself onto her stomach over what ledge they had left for leverage. Her shoulder groaned with pain, and her stomach hurt from being pressed onto the sharp stone. Eryn yelled, gathering whatever adrenaline her body could give her to hold him as they swung yet again towards an unknown destination; and he was heavy.

They swung past the others watching helplessly from the side of the mountain. She could hear the faint shouts of the adjacent party as they yelled and Thorin screamed to them, "Hold on!"

Thankfully, with just moments to spare, along with Bilbo and Dwalin's additional strength, they reached down and grabbed Fili, helping her pull him up as their Giant lost the battle and its head. It had fallen and incidentally, so where they, towards the mountain beside them.

The impact flung them forward and onto the large lip on the side of the mountain.

They all simply laid there for a moment, tangled up and out of breath. The adrenaline was still coursing through Eryn as she huffed and stared up at the cloudy sky. She was unsure exactly where in the pile of dwarves she was, but she was closest to Dwalin, Fili and Ori. Dwalin grabbed her hand and gave it a tight squeeze, though Eryn did not look over towards him. She was locked in a really good stare into oblivion. Fili, leaned his head back on her shoulder as well, huffing or laughing, Eryn wasn't sure.

Thorin rounded the corner shouting for his nephew, stopping when he set his eyes on the pile before him. Eryn broke her stare only to see that he had looked more relieved than she had ever seen him. A smile broke across his face and he shook his head.

"It's all right! They're alive!" Gloin called and Kili pushed around the corner to find his brother.

"Where's Bilbo?" Bofur asked, as he rose. "Where's the Hobbit?!" he looked around urgently.

Eryn snapped out of her trance, looking around frantically for the Hobbit.

There poor Bilbo was, hanging from the side of the cliff. "Bilbo!" Bofur cried again.

Bilbo hung there, eyes wide and filled with fear. His feet swam to grip onto anything, but the rock was too slick, he slipped.

"Get him!" Thorin commanded as Ori dove for Bilbo's hand, but he was only moments too late. Bilbo fell, thankfully caught himself on another small cleft in the side of the mountain. Eryn dove down as well, extending her hand hoping for it to magically reach, but it didn't. She looked over helplessly as the Hobbit hung there, terror in his eyes.

"Grab my hand!" Bofur called, reaching out to Bilbo, but he was too far down.

Everyone yelled and fussed, but it was Thorin of all people to throw himself over the side of the cliff after him. He held onto the edge of the cliff as he lowered himself, extending his hand to Bilbo. He pulled the hobbit up with ease and shoved him upwards to Bofur and Ori. Right as he let go of Bilbo and shifted his grip to climb back up, he slipped as well. Dwalin's arm shot out like a snake, catching him. Thankfully Eryn was close enough to help Dwalin lift Thorin from the side of the cliff. He was significantly heavier than Fili. Eryn gripped his hand, surprised that Thorin even took it, but she was thankful.

"Can you Durins keep off of sides of cliffs from now on?" Eryn gave a labored laugh and an exhausted smile as she sat back into the side of the mountain, releasing his hand.

He gave her a diagonal nod and rose. He stood to lean against the side of the rock, catching his breath.

"I thought we lost our Burglar." Dwalin said relieved, leaning back into the mountain next to Eryn, breathing heavily he placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a firm nod.

"He's been lost ever since he left home." Thorin chided, Bilbo looked up at him in disbelief. "He should have never come. He has no place amongst us." He turned and walked forward on the path. "Dwalin!" He called, jerking his head, motioning for Dwalin to follow. Dwalin rose quickly and followed behind, but not before giving him a somber look.

They all exchanged looks and rose to follow Thorin deeper into the mountain. Eryn was hoping for one moment to breath, but they were up again and chasing after moody-mcgrumpy pants. Thankfully that chase was one that yielded something useful, Thorin had found a cave. Eryn sighed with relief when she saw it.

"It looks safe enough." Dwalin said as he looked at the cave once over.

"Search the back." Thorin commanded. "Caves in the mountain are seldom unoccupied."

Balin found a lamp that was left at the mouth of the cave, lit it and handed it to his brother. Dwalin walked all the way to the back in search of any additional company, once he was satisfied, he reported back.

"There's nothing here." he affirmed.

"Right then!" Gloin said, dropping some wood in a pile he had found as well. "Let's get a fire started." He rubbed his hands together and Eryn's heart rejoiced at the thought of being warm and possibly dry.

"No. No fires. Not in this place." Thorin informed. "Get some sleep, we start at the first light." And he began removing the equipment from his person.

"We were to wait in the mountains until Gandalf joined us." Balin informed Thorin. "That was the plan" His mouth set in a hard line; he was visibly displeased.

"Plans change." Thorin informed Balin and he stared back, concern set deep in his eyes. He opened his mouth as if he was to say something, but Thorin spoke first.

"Bofur, you take the first watch." He commanded, Bofur merely nodded silently. The disappointment was clear on his face.

Eryn looked around and noticed that nobody looked at Thorin, they looked disappointed, even upset. Eryn wasn't sure if it was because they didn't want to leave at first light, or if it was because of his unfair treatment of Bilbo. She watched as he retreated to the mouth of the cave before she threw her bag down, next to Bilbo's things. Everyone noticed her obvious frustration and watched as she strode out of the cave after Thorin.

Eryn's grandfather always said that she was 'wilder than a tornado in a corn field' when something riled her up, thankfully that was a rare occasion. She had lost that spark for quite some time, but every once in a while, something happened that made her burst. Unfortunately for Thorin, this was one of those rare occasions.

"What the hell was that?" Eryn demanded, hot on Thorin's heels.

"What do you mean woman?" He spun around; offence set deep into his brow.

"With Bilbo! That was unfair and you know it! What did he do that was so wrong hu?" Eryn said bowing up before him, his harsh stare bore deep into her hard-set cognac eyes.

"He almost got himself and my people killed, he has been nothing but a hindrance" Thorin spat.

"And how about me?!" She challenged. "I nearly dangled off a cliff today, once to help you. How do you intend to chastise me?"

"It is not the same and I do not intend to chastise you," He broke away from her stare and looked downward, almost as if he was embarrassed. "I intend to thank you. I saw what you did for Fili. I am in your debt. Whatever you want, speak it, it is yours." He looked at her now, his eyes softened.

"I want you to apologize to Bilbo!" She began, but decided against it. It was no apology at all if he did it out of requirement. "No. You know what, no. I don't want you apologizing unless you actually have a shred of remorse for what you did." Eryn wrapped her arms around herself, shivering. "Besides, I don't want anything from you." His eyes hardened again, and his mouth set into a hard line. "Your pride and selfish disdain is what will lead you to a very lonely life, Thorin. You'll die alone and you'll have no one to blame but yourself." Eryn murmured, she closed her eyes and shook her head.

"How do you mean?" Thorin hissed, "Speak woman!" and he placed his hands on her shoulders firmly. Eryn flinched away from him. He saw the momentary flash of fear in her eyes and lowered his hands slowly, fear growing in his own. He didn't intend to frighten her.

"I'm not telling you a thing." Eryn whispered; her voice broke but it was firm. "Now let me walk away and I will consider your debt repaid. I already told you, I don't want anything from you." She shot her eyes downward, examining her shoes.

Thorin slowly stepped away from her, nodding his head in agreement. Eryn nodded in return, turned on her heels and retreated into the cave.

Everyone once again looked conveniently busy when she walked in. She looked down toward her shoes and made her way to where she left her pack.

She noticed her bed roll was put out for her and both Balin and Dwalin were sitting on either side of her bed.

"That was a very brave thing you did, lass." Balin affirmed, Dwalin nodded in agreement.

"What was?" Eryn said, shaking from the chill of the cave and her damp clothes. She decided to strip off the jackets and first tunic, as well as her extra trousers, giving her a little less to cling to.

"Helping Thorin, and his Kin. As well as standing up for Bilbo." Balin answered, smiling his cheeky smile.

"You heard that?" Eryn groaned, pulling her knees up to her chest and placing her forehead on them. It was a poor attempt at hiding.

"Aye, few times have I seen Thorin speechless." Dwalin chuckled. "We're proud of you lass. The Hobbit too. Not many can endure that with the boldness ye did." He nodded, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"You sure put in work today. At the rate we were going, I thought you were going to be pulling everyone up from that cliff today." Eryn teased Dwalin.

He shook his head. "I saw you pulling your weight today as well. You pulled as many people off that cliff as I." He nodded his head in approval.

"Hardly, I didn't do much. I wish I could have done more really." Eryn admitted.

"You stuck your neck out for my kin, you were more than a comrade today, dear." Balin said as Dwalin reached into his pack and pulled out a small dagger. He spun it in his hands for a few moments and then he handed it to Eryn. "Here lass. I know you don't have a sword, or the means to learn how to use one right now. I want you to have it, in case you ever need it."

Eryn took it, the cool metal felt heavy in her tired hands.

"Do you know how to use it?" He asked as she examined the blade.

"Use the pointy end?" Eryn teased, causing Dwalin to stare at her void of humor, Balin thought it was funny at least. "I'm just joking, eh?" He still didn't laugh. "I took fencing lessons for a while, so I'm familiar with the basic strikes and technique. But I have no idea how to wield a sword-sword." She admitted.

"I'll teach you the basics tomorrow." Dwalin Promised.

"Get some rest. You'll feel better in the morning." Balin said, also patting her on the shoulder.

They both laid down on their bedrolls and were asleep within minutes, Eryn however, laid there for some time, her muscles tense and her eyes burned with tears that threatened to escape. She was cold, the sand stuck to her wet shirt. Her feet hurt, she forgot to take her shoes off but was too tired and sore now to sit up and remove them. Her shoulder ached from holding Fili for what felt like an hour, and she was overwhelmed with exhaustion. She was too tired to sleep, so she just laid there for a while before the soft whispers turned to a lull of snores and heavy breathing.

The cave was tight, but they made it work, though there was barely a walkway down the middle of the rows of dwarves. Everyone was sprawled out and tightly packed.

Just as Eryn was about to fall asleep, she heard a faint rustling towards the front of the cave, she turned on her side to see Bilbo had risen and was cinching his belt to his waist. Eryn moved to sit up, every muscle in her back screamed, when she heard someone else notice Bilbo too.

"Where do you think you're going?" Bofur whispered, startling Bilbo.

"Back to Rivendel." He said with a firm nod.

"No, no! You can't turn back now, eh?" Bofur rose, "You're part of the company. You're one of us."

"I'm not, though, am I?" Bilbo challenged. "Thorin said I should never have come, and he was right." Bilbo shrugged. Eryn instinctively turned her eyes to Thorin, who was also awake, listening, the two locked eyes and Eryn raised her eyebrows giving him a chastising look. "I'm not a Took, I'm a Baggins, I don't know what I was thinking. I should never have run out my door." He planted his walking stick firmly into the sand. Thorin looked downward, regret settled into his brow.

"You're homesick, I understand." Bofur said, sympathetic.

"No! No, no you don't understand! None of you do, you're Dwarves!" He exclaimed, waving his hands about. "You're used to this life, living on the road, never settling in one place, not belonging anywhere!" At those words, Bofur's face fell, the joy lost in his eyes and Bilbo realized what he had said. "Oh, I am sorry, I didn't-" he started, but the damage had been done, he cleared his throat, casting his gaze downward, pursing his lips. Eryn looked on, debating if she needed to get up and say something.

Bofur merely nodded. "No, you're right." he turned and looked at the cramped cave full of Dwarves. "We don't belong anywhere." He sighed, turning back to look at a remorseful Hobbit. Thorin, Eryn noticed, looked wounded as well. "I wish you all the luck in the world." He smiled finally, reaching out to grip Bilbo's shoulder in parting. "I really do." Bilbo smiled and returned the parting gesture.

It was when Bilbo turned to leave that Bofur spotted a mysterious glow from Bilbo's sword. "What's that?"

Bilbo looked down, and slowly pulled his dagger from its sheath, looking up unsettled and afraid

At the sight of the blue glow, Eryn bolted upright, she had forgotten about one very crucial thing. Goblins.


	10. Flesh and Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, I'm really nervous about this one, it was difficult to write. Trying my hand at some thrill and suspense. Hopefully the portrayal is vivid enough to give you guys a wild ride. If you have time, let me know how the pacing is. This chapter is very experimental as I've never written anything like it.  
> That being said, please enjoy this emotional dive into Eryns demons while she tries to survive Goblin town.
> 
> Cheers! -B

Thorin's eyes grew with understanding of Eryn's abrupt actions. Her eyes were wide and her hands trembled, she reached quickly for her hooded jacket, pulling it on and grabbed the dagger Dwalin had given her. She then tucked the dagger in its leather sheath under her shirt, fastening it to her bra in the middle, it was a risky move but that was the best she could think of at that moment. She would have other problems if the Goblins checked there.  
The floor creaked and unseen wood beneath them groaned, there was a soft hissing noise as the sand around them fell through cracks in the floor.  
"Wake up!" Thorin yelled, rising to his feet.  
The rest of the party clamored and gasped at the sudden startling cries of their leader. The creaking grew louder and then, the floor was gone entirely. It unhinged like a door, and they all fell.  
Eryn screamed at the initial fall, her stomach in her throat and the wind knocked out of her when she collided with the stone beneath them. She was just thankful she didn't hit her head. She bumped and slid, trying her best to protect her head as she tumbled down the long stone tunnel. She collided with something hard and she realized that they were all bumping into each other like soft pinballs; everyone screamed and cursed as they fell.

They were deposited in a cage a few feet below the opening of the channel. Eryn had the misfortune of landing earlier in the pile up and was being crushed beneath many heavy dwarves. She groaned and coughed, the discomfort grew when she realized that she was sandwiched on top of Thorin, laying across his stomach. She apologized profusely, but she wasn't the object of his distress, because not moments after they landed a stampede of shrieking, vile goblins came pouring towards them. He quickly grabbed the hood of her still wet jacket and pulled it over her head. "Don't let them know!" He hissed and nodded before dragging her up by the arm.  
The company shouted and fought as they were pulled apart. Eryn screamed as an onslaught of goblins came charging towards her, they jumped, bit and clawed at her person, she flailed and kicked, trying to make any connection with her attackers. Thorin did what he could to pull them off of her, but he had his own assailants to deal with. Fili and Kili yelled for her, and she tried to find them throughout the chaos, but when she did find them, they were too far ahead. She saw that Dwalin had made some work of the goblins, but they were too many in number and still pulled him forward in a sour march down the dimly lit cave.  
The dwarves yelled, cursed and shoved as they tried to gain some upper hand over their captors. Many of them looked for her, simply to know where she was, and she was thankful for that.

The smell was moist and putrid. Their skin was greasy and stale, and Eryn tried her best not to throw up. Her skin would crawl when one of them touched her. The terror she felt was greater than before, she would take on another Stone Giant any day than smell these creatures one second longer.  
She was an unknown addition to this equation, just like when they were on the Stone Giant, this story was made for 14, not 15. She hoped that no additional trouble would come from this.  
The goblins led them through winding paths and over rickety bridges, as they wound through the cave. Eryn noticed that the chaotic design of the goblin city was more than haphazardly put together, it was a sight to behold. The bridges were narrow, and their structural integrity wasn't promising either. Eryn feared getting shoved too hard, in her already unsteady state, she could easily fall.  
As they approached the center of the room, Eryn saw a large platform in the center, and an amphitheater of platforms surrounded it on all sides of the cave wall. Goblins cheered, danced and shrieked as their group was drug to the center.  
There was a clambering of symbols and horns, it sounded almost like music. Eryn looked around as the crowd grew more restless and was even more perplexed when the noises around her started to form into an organized melody.  
When they rounded the final turn towards the center platform, Eryn's face turned to disgust at the vile creature sitting upon a throne before them. He was ginormous, with large bulging eyes, tumors and boils over his filthy, odious skin. Bits of hair sprouted from warts and his scalp, with a crown of bones crammed onto his head. The worst part was its goiter-stricken neck fat that hung low, like his belly.

He rose when they approached and much to everyone's surprise, began to sing. Eryn, however, was not surprised. In fact, she hated to admit it, but this was one of her favorite songs; the rhymes were quite witty. Though the song was ruined now that she was present for its performance.  
The song was longer than Eryn remembered, and she noticed she wasn't the only one impressed by it, Bofur nodded his head and pursed his lips in surprise as the performance the Goblin king gave them. When he finished with his vibrato and decrepit twirl, everyone ducked away from his staff that grazed over the crowd. Everyone stood quietly as he climbed back atop his throne, crushing many smaller goblins along the way.  
"Well, what have we here?" The goblin king mused and the goblins that escorted their party began throwing all confiscated weapons at the feet of the Goblin King. "Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom?" He growled. "Spies? Thieves? Assassins?" his voice growing in pitch as he named off each offense.  
"Dwarves, your malevolence." A goblin replied.  
"Dwarves?" He squealed.  
"We found them on the front porch." The goblin answered.  
"Well, don't just stand there! Search them!" The goblin king demanded.  
The Goblins responded in kind, gripping, pulling and rifling through their pockets. Eryn was very thankful that she had the foresight to hide her dagger in her bra. She was also thankful that she didn't get searched there for many reasons. She kept her mouth clamped shut as their disgusting hands roamed about her pockets, fearful that they would remove her hood as well.  
The loss was minimal, thankfully they didn't find Thorin's key, but they did smash Oins ear trumpet and found Nori's stolen Elvish cutlery and silver.  
"It is my belief, your great protuberance, that they are in league with elves!" The goblin grunt shouted, holding up a fine silver candlestick to his king. The goblin king examined the piece of silverware and hissed.  
Everyone looked pointedly at Nori, "Just a couple of keepsakes." Nori defended and Thorin sighed in return.  
"Now, what are you doing in these parts?" The goblin king demanded.  
Thorin began to step forward to answer, but Oin placed a firm hand on his shoulder, stepping in front of Thorin. Eryn also instinctively grabbed his arm, trying to keep him from speaking. He shot her a sideward glance and nodded.  
"Ah, don't worry lads. I'll handle this." Oin said, stepping to the front of the party.  
"No tricks! I want the truth." The goblin king commanded, slamming his staff into the deck once again.

"You're going to have to speak up. Your boys flattened my trumpet." Oin informed, enraging the Goblin king.  
He lunged forward, slapping many of his own goblins in a fit of rage, successfully throwing them off of the deck.  
"Excuse me, if you want a better explanation, perhaps I could be of service," Bofur jumped in to offer a new solution. The Goblin king halted "We were on the road. Well, it's not so much a road as a path. Actually, it's not even that, come to think of it. It's more like a track." he pursed his lips. "Anyway, the point is, we were on this road, like a path, like a track and then we weren't." He shrugged. "Which is a problem. Because we were supposed to be in Dunland last Tuesday."  
"Visiting distant relations-" Dori injected. But the goblin king had heard quite enough of that.  
Shut up!" He yelled. Bofur opened his mouth as if to say something further but thought better of it and closed it. Eryn sighed, thankful.  
"Now, which one of you wants to tell me the truth?" He seethed. "You!" he said, and it took Eryn a moment before she realized that the goblin king was pointing his horrendous finger at her. Many of the dwarves closed in around her, trying to keep her from sight, but it was too late. The blood drained from her face and she gulped, clutching to Thorin's arm. He tried to hold her there, but the multitude of goblins clawed the dwarves apart and shoved her forward. One of the foul goblins pulled her hood down and the goblin king made the most disgusting guttural noise Eryn had ever heard.  
"Well, well, well." He purred. "Come forward, my lady." he outstretched his staff and hooked one of the horns adorning his staff around her back, pulling her forward. Eryn had no choice but to comply, if she didn't the hook would cut into her further.  
He climbed down from his throne again and knelt to examine her, the smell was repulsive. Eryn turned her head and vomited onto the deck. Coughing and spitting up what was left of her stomach contents.  
"You flatter me, my dear." The goblin king smiled sourly. "So, who do you belong to?" He raised a swollen finger and lifted her chin. Many of the Dwarves cursed and lunged forward, causing a wide grin to broaden across his face. "Well, well, it seems they all lay claim to you." He snickered. "Grem, take the woman away." He waved his hand away. "She will suffice as payment for your release from my kingdom." The uproar of goblins was deafening, and Eryn stood there in shock.  
The roar of dwarves was louder than ever as they began to push and shove to get control over the situation once again. One of the goblins took out its blade and pointed it directly towards Eryn's throat.  
"Now, now," the goblin king sang, "Either she dies here, or she dies later. Either way, you won't be leaving with her," He cackled and rose once more to sit on his throne. "Though I do have other plans for her." And he gave a wicked smile. The smaller goblin began herding her out of the crowd.  
Eryn tried her best to put on a brave face, she couldn't control the situation, but she could control how she responded, and she didn't want to give the Goblin king the satisfaction of seeing her afraid. For the most part she carried herself well, but her body shook with terror and her skin went cold. She locked eyes with a few of the dwarves and there was fire in every one of them. Fili reached out to grab her hand as she passed, but he was quickly shoved away by another goblin. She nodded trying to give them some sense of confidence that she was alright with this outcome, even though she wasn't. She thought earlier that she did not want to die falling off a mountain, and she got her wish at least. She would probably be tortured by goblins instead. Great.

The armed goblin led her back over the bridge and down some stairs. As she was being led away, she heard the booming voice of the Goblin king addressing Thorin. They had gone far enough that it was hard to make out his words over the sound of the rioting goblin crowd.  
She immediately began planning her means of escape. Looking around she noticed that all the attention was drawn to the dwarves and the Goblin king, if Eryn was able to sneak away, she could possibly escape. She wracked her brain trying to remember how Bilbo escaped, she didn't recall seeing him in the presence of the Goblin King. If the story was progressing as it should, he should be neck deep in a game of wits with Golem. If she recalled correctly, there was a back door, and it was at the very bottom of the cave. Eryn was thankful that she wasn't a part of that bit of the story, but this was far more challenging. Her story wasn't written, and she was on her own.  
She was led deeper and deeper into the caves and she searched around frantically for anything that looked like a way down. After a while she noticed that there were far less goblins the further they went, Eryn assumed they were all too interested in the commotion to bother hanging around. As they approached a large room, Eryn saw a small stone channel that seemed to snake downward, she hoped it would lead somewhere further down and not into a lavatory or pot of boiling oil; she wasn't exactly sure how goblins did things around here.  
She only had one goblin to deal with now. She could do this. All she had to do was distract him or get away somehow, make her way down that slide, maybe some ladders she saw further down and with a little bit of luck, she'd be on her way.

The goblin approached a large door made of a haphazardly put together wood. It was splintered and hardly a door really. The goblin grabbed it and lifted it out of the way, ushering her in. The smell that wafted out of the room made Eryn want to vomit again. The smell reminded Eryn of melena, it was sour and foul. In the room was another throne but this one was cushioned, various knickknacks were thrown about the room, possibly things confiscated from other unfortunate victims.  
"Wait here," the goblin ordered, "his Ostentatiousness will be with you shortly." he turned and left, placing the piece of wood over the hole in the wall.

Eryn immediately went to work assessing her situation. The room was big enough to possibly have a back door, she would start there. There's no way the Goblin King would hold himself up without a means of quick escape. No king would.  
After a few minutes of frantic searching, Eryn found nothing. She moved tables, chairs, and anything else she could move. The only thing she couldn't move were the shelves and throne, along with large piles of trash and various other items. Her only way out was going to be through the door she came in from and the chances of her being unguarded was unlikely. She approached the door quietly, trying not to make any unnecessary sound. Eryn peaked out of a gap in the wood, searching for any signs of movement. She saw nothing, it couldn't be this easy, could it?  
Eryn looked around for an additional weapon and found a long dagger and she fastened it to her waist. It was an inch or two longer than the one she had stashed away; she wanted to save that one for an absolute emergency.

She double checked through the slit in the door, saw nothing still, so she decided to make a bit of noise. "Hey!" She shouted, "Let me out of here!" She pounded on the door for extra emphasis. Nothing. No shushing, no shuffle of feat. Maybe this would be easier than she thought. Even with that boost of confidence, her stomach was tight, and she began to perspire.  
Slowly, Eryn grabbed hold of the door and lifted it. It was heavier than it looked and she groaned louder than she had wanted, she had forgotten that her shoulder was sore. She moved it only a foot, just wide enough for her to slip between, and placed the door back in its place.  
Crouching low, she ran to the first tunnel she remembered. She poked her head around the corner, the fire from the torches shone at the other end of the tunnel, giving her some idea if anyone was coming, but she couldn't see throughout the length of the tunnel itself. It was pitch black.  
Eryn took a deep breath and walked gingerly through the stone hall. Her back was tense, not being able to see was chilling and she didn't want anything to jump out at her. She focused on the sounds, and sights. The silhouette that could appear if anyone or anything moved, gave her some reassurance.

Once she made it through the first tunnel, she stopped just at the end to survey the next room, this was the room with the channel leading hopefully far enough downward. There was nothing in sight here either. She couldn't believe her dumb luck.  
Eryn left the shelter of the dark tunnel and began her approach on the channel before her.  
Then there was a soft tap.  
Click.  
Tap, tap, tap.  
Eryn heard the ominous clatter of pebbles and froze.  
She looked behind her but saw nothing, her head swiveled, and her surroundings yielded no foe. Until she looked up. There crawling towards her from above the tunnel she had just abandoned, was a goblin.  
Eryn took off running, closing the distance quickly between her and the channel. She heard a deafening shriek and then there was pain. She screamed from the fire that she felt in her left shoulder, clawed hands gripped around her neck and arm. Eryn flailed and tried to grab her assailant but couldn't get a hold of anything. Her fingers slipped from the grimy skin of her attacker. She tried to focus. What was around her? What could she do? Her mind screamed at her.  
Finally, she grabbed ahold of something, Eryn pulled with all her might and bent forward, allowing gravity to give her a hand. The creature fell forward but was on its feet again in no time. It brandished a weapon and Eryn's eyes went wide. She hadn't been this scared since- she stopped herself. She would not allow her mind to wound her here. Her mind began to flood with new fear, a fear of self-preservation. Fight or flight. She didn't know if she had an option.  
Pulling the dagger at her waist, Eryn stood her ground. Maybe, if the creature thought she would fight it, she could dodge around it. It was worth a shot.  
As if the goblin heard her inner monologue it lunged for her, dagger raised. Eryn shuffled her feet, barely dodging away from her attacker. With one strong swipe, she swung her dagger in the goblin's direction, successfully contacting the back of its head. She didn't stick around to find out how well it worked, because her feet began moving before her mind could keep up.  
Down the channel she went. She slid and tumbled downward, coming to an abrupt stop in another corridor. She looked both ways, trying to decide where she wanted to go. An unlit tunnel or a lit tunnel. The decision was made quickly as she heard the fumbling of something following her down the stone shoot.  
Eryn stumbled to her feet and took off running in the direction of light, she didn't know if this was a good idea or not, but the last thing she wanted was to be trapped in the dark.

This, thankfully, yielded her with two options, another corridor or a ladder. Eryn chose the ladder. She tumbled over the top of the ladder, slipping on a few steps on her way down, her heart pounded, and her hands hurt.  
As she ran, she heard a loud noise coming from deeper in the cave, the shrieks of goblins and loud booms echoed off the stone. She decided to run away from that noise and turned to move down another extension bridge that hovered over a large gap in the cave floor.  
She moved quickly, watching her footing so to not trip on a loose rope or nail. The bridge shook and she turned to look over her shoulder to find her assailant was still coming after her. She groaned and pushed harder to run as fast as her legs could take her. She was growing tired though and adrenaline could only take her so far.  
The goblin was gaining on her and she pushed even more, but it wasn't enough. She ducked just in time for the goblin to go sailing over her head and onto the bridge in front of her. She stood stationary for a moment, waiting to see what the creature would do. There was nowhere to run except backwards, and she didn't want to do that.  
The goblin lunged again, this time Eryn parried with her dagger, astonishing herself. She pushed back on the goblin and it shrieked in her face, causing her to flinch just for a moment; that moment was all it needed. The monster hit Eryn on the side of her head with the hilt of its dagger. Eryn swayed and almost tumbled backwards but caught herself on the ropes.  
Her mind assaulted her again with thoughts and associated memories, the kind that made her want to give up. But Eryn stood her ground, she pushed back against the goblin with her dagger, throwing it off balance causing it to tumble to the ground. Eryn jumped over the creature and sprinted down the bridge to another ladder. Which led to another and another. She continued her descent until she physically couldn't run anymore. Her injured shoulder began to throb, and her head swam.  
She gripped her shoulder, fumbling down the last ladder, shaking and sweating. The tunnel was livelier now and the sound of footsteps and goblins grew louder as Eryn shuffled to the nearest shelter.  
She hid behind a large bolder and clamped her eyes shut, her knees tucked in close to her chest. The pounding of the wooden bridge above her caused her core and shoulders to tighten, her knees shook.  
"Come out Eryn." Her mind volunteered a familiar voice to call and she shot her head up, startled and afraid. Her breathing was labored as she waited for her enemy to pass; both in her mind and in this very present moment.  
Eryn wanted there for what felt like an eternity, the shouts and cries of commotion were growing louder and louder. She had to decide how she wanted to proceed. The truth was, Eryn was exhausted, and she took inventory of her current status. Her sides ached, her legs felt like jelly, her shoulder was bleeding upon inspection, and she had a massive headache.  
Eryn sighed, leaning her head backwards, she wanted to be done. Curling up here and sleeping was all she could think about. Her mind volunteered memories of laying under Vermont trees in fall, before her grandfather got sick and she moved back to Michigan. She missed the trees, and the crisp air. She would escape there when things got out of hand. She would pull out her phone and call the only person she could count on.

"What's wrong Fey-Fey?" A soothing voice called to her from over the phone.

"Papa." Eryns voice broke. "I can't do it."

"You can do anything, honey." He said, worry thick in his voice. "Don't you forget. You have every right to be happy and safe."

"I can't. I'm not brave enough." Eryn cried.

"Yes you can." her Grandfather began, " are you scared?"

"Well, yeah," She admitted. "I'm very scared."

"That's the only time you can be brave. You can be brave. You can get up, brush yourself off, look what you're afraid of square in the face and tell it 'No. Not today.'"

She took a deep breath and was brought back to her immediate predicament. This wasn't Vermont in the fall. This was Middle Earth, and she was in a goblin cave no less.  
She smiled wryly, she longed to be in Middle Earth before, but now she wasn't so sure. She knew this would be hard and this was only the first of many challenges that this quest would yield. But she didn't expect to be so under-prepared and unqualified. Tears pricked at her eyes.  
She wouldn't cry. Eryn took another deep breath. Was she really going to give up so easily? This was bigger than her, this was bigger than her comforts, this was a chance to participate in something real. These people are real. Like Lord Elrond said, this may be a story to her, but they are flesh and blood, each experiencing some challenge of their own, just like her. Some of them wouldn't live to see the fruit of their labor. This was Eryn's one chance to finally do something more than just sit at home and daydream about doing something incredible. She could be a part of something incredible.  
She wasn't a sad story and she wasn't going to let her fear dictate her. Her resolve grew and she climbed to her feet. "Not today." She muttered.

Steadying herself against the rock, she decided to continue running. She would run until she couldn't, and she would survive. Like she had done before.  
So, she did. The ground slowly turned from stone to sand and the cavern slowly grew to light, hope growing in the pit of her stomach.  
But like clockwork, her foe returned. Three steps forward, two steps back. The goblin rounded a corner just in front of Eryn and she cursed. "Do you ever quit?!" Eryn growled.  
The goblin screeched and she brandished her dagger yet again. It lunged for her, swinging wildly. Eryn jumped backwards avoiding its advances, tripping over a rock. She fell, landing on the soft sand and the goblin jumped on top of her, dagger raised. As the blow fell Eryn reached up, grabbing its putrid arm, struggling to hold it as tightly as she could, stopping its descent. She clenched her own dagger and drove it into the goblins side, causing it to shriek. She yanked it out and drove it in once more, as hard as she could, this time closer to its chest. The creature cried and its strength failed it, giving Eryn the ability to push it off her. She left the dagger this time, rose to her feet and continued her escape.

Her mind swam and she thought that the light at the end of the tunnel was perhaps her mind playing tricks on her, but the breeze against her face told her otherwise. She had made it.  
Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness and the sun was blinding, even as it began to set behind the thin cluster of trees. She jumped and stumbled down the descent of the hill, her legs had just about given up.  
Just as she broke through the densest part of the trees, she saw the most joyous sight she had seen in her life. Dwarves. But what made her rejoice even more was the presence of Gandalf the Grey.  
They were gathered in a circle around Bilbo, when a cry escaped Eryn's lips. They all stopped and turned, expecting another onslaught of foes, but instead found a very disheveled Eryn. Their faces ranged from delight to tears of joy, others were fitted with rage at the state of her. "Eryn!" many of them exclaimed at once.  
She ran straight to Gandalf and flung her arms around him, letting out a stifled sob. The look of concern was deeply set on his face.  
"What happened my dear?" Gandalf asked, pulling her away to examine her.

Eryn just stood there in stunned silence. She couldn't believe she'd made it. He looked her over and nodded for Oin, who came over immediately.  
"We thought we'd lost you." Kili breathed.  
"We thought you were gone for good dear." Balin said approaching her.  
Eryn moved to hug him as well, much to his surprise, though he gratefully accepted.  
One by one they approached her and offered her a hug, soon it just became one big group hug, with a few exceptions of course. Thorin, who did not participate in the group hug, approached her and placed a gentle hand on her not bloodied shoulder. He nodded towards her and pressed his lips into a fine line, his eyes searching hers.  
"I'm amazed you made it out. Perhaps you are more capable than I thought." He admitted. "This day is full of surprises." Eryn smiled weakly in return, placing her hand atop of his, giving it a light squeeze. If that was his way of paying her a compliment, she'd take it.  
"Let me see ye now." Oin said, pulling the neckline of her shirt away from her shoulder to get a closer look. Thorin moved away now to give her some privacy.  
As Eryn thought how thankful she was that this was over with and she could finally rest, they heard a dreaded howl. Eryn froze as did everyone else. Gandalf looked up, weary.  
“Out of the frying pan…" Thorin muttered.  
"And into the fire." Gandalf finished. "Run." He said turning on his heels, leading the group away from the approaching danger.  
Eryn groaned, and once again began running for her life.


	11. Courage

They took off down the hill, weapons drawn, and haste carried their feet after Gandalf. Eryn's chest was on fire, and she could barely keep up as the company ran for their lives. She’d had quite enough of running, but now they were being chased by something far worse than goblins, Wargs.   
Eryn stumbled and swayed as she ran, she tried her best, but her muscles spent. Her mind was cloudy, and her limbs shook from the events that took place in the goblin cave. She had killed something. Even if it was a goblin, she had killed it, it's blood-stained her jacket and was probably elsewhere. She shook her head, trying to focus on what was unfolding around her.   
Just a little more, she kept telling herself. Bombur noticed her struggle and grabbed her arm in passing, pulling her along. He offered her a hand when she had to jump and guided her to the path of least resistance. Unfortunately, in their haste, there weren't many options, but Bombur at least helped her keep up.  
One of the wargs caught up with them leaping over their heads, cutting them off. It snapped its threatening teeth and growled, lunging for Bilbo, but Bilbo was ready with his sword. He stabbed it upon impact between its eyes. Eryn gave him a nod of approval as more wargs came barreling down the hill. This one was bested by Dwalin and Thorin, while Ori's hammer bludgeoned another.   
They ran until they reached the edge of the cliff, trapping them. They all turned and looked at Gandalf, fear sparked in their eyes as they saw an insurmountable problem.  
"Into the trees!" Gandalf demanded, "Quickly, all of you, climb!" He repeated, and the dwarves followed suit. They lunged one by one, those up first reaching out to help one another.   
“Can you climb?” Bombur asked.   
"I don't know," Eryn admitted. She was never good at climbing trees. "I'll try, though."  
“Balin!” Bombur called up the tree. “Help her!" He knelt and linked his hands together, making a place for Eryn to step. She nodded and climbed up into his hands. He then proceeded to hoist her upward, far quicker than expected. She lunged upward; arm outstretched trying to grab the nearest tree branch. She grasped it, clinging there for dear life. Her arms grew hot with pain, and she didn't know how much longer she could hold on. She looked down, and Bombur was already climbing the tree adjacent to the one she was on; if she fell, she was on her own. Eryn grunted, trying to lift herself.  
"Take it!" a gruff voice commanded when she looked up, she saw it was Thorin outstretching a hand to her. She took it gladly, but as she did, his eyebrow shot up, almost amused.   
“Not a word.” Eryn groaned through gritted teeth.   
Thorin hauled her up with ease, and Eryn clung to the tree trunk, watching as the onslaught of wargs approached the trees below.   
As he stood with her, his body stiffened, the look in his eyes was one of disbelief and rage. “Azog.” he breathed.  
Eryn followed his gaze to the monstrous figure sitting atop a white warg. “What?” Eryn exclaimed, “But, Dain killed him! At the gates of Moria." Racking her brain as to what was going on. Then she remembered, there were more than just books, they made three freakin’ movies. Eryn cursed.   
Thorin looked at her, confusion and anger painted his face. "Dain did not kill him. I killed him...." Thorin corrected. "It cannot be," he said with a whisper, so soft Eryn almost couldn't hear.  
Azog began saying something in a tongue Eryn did not know, but it caused every hair on her body to stand on end. It was purely defined as vile, causing Eryn shutter.  
"Stay close, you will not be harmed," Thorin said, putting his arm around Eryn, anchoring her closer to the trunk of the tree.  
“It isn’t me I’m worried about.” She said firmly. “He’s going to bate you. Please, I’m begging you, don’t go out to him!”   
Thorin looked at her, war was laying siege in his mind, and it played out frantically in his eyes. "You do not command me." He proclaimed.  
“I agree,” Eryn sighed, stunned at his contrary nature, "But as your Adviser, I must say that it would be a hazardous move. One that could result in you being injured, or worse, dead." She pleaded diplomatically. She hadn't used the "advisor" card yet, and she wondered if it would hold any merit here, but it was worth a shot.  
Azog laughed and began speaking again; whatever he said had Thorin tense, and he quickly looked at her, his jaw clenched. Azog raised his weapon, pointing it at Thorin. His voice grew, and he swung his mace over his head, signaling for the wargs to attack.   
They charged, growled as they collided with the trees, biting and clawing, trying to make their way up the tree. The dwarves shouted and climbed higher and faster, trying to give as much distance as possible between them and the beasts below. Thorin gripped Eryn tighter, for which she was thankful.  
The wargs climbed, and they pushed, causing the first tree to topple, hitting the tree behind it. The attack from the wargs below caused a domino effect, forcing the Dwarves to jump to the next tree as it was falling. Quicker than Eryn expected, their tree was about to be hit. She yelled and turned to jump, praying her limbs would cooperate.  
“Fili!” Thorin yelled, “Catch her!”  
She jumped, and a strong arm reached out, guiding her to the next tree. "Thanks, Fi," Eryn said, turning to make sure Thorin was behind her; He had made it to a branch below her. Eryn counted heads, making sure no one was left behind as the tree they were once in toppled over the side of the cliff. Eryn turned and saw they were on the very last tree, with nowhere to go; Azog laughed maniacally.  
They seemed to be stranded. Everyone looked around frantically, searching for some solution. Until a blaze of fire shot out from above Eryns head, causing the ground to burst into flames.   
“Fili!” Gandalf yelled, throwing him a flaming pinecone. Fili held out his pinecone to Bilbo, who had his pinecone, as well as lighting one and handing it to Eryn. They were hot, and Eryn tossed it between her hands before she got a good grip, throwing it at the ground below; she admittedly was a poor shot. One by one, they dwarves distributed flaming pinecones to each other and hurled them at the wargs.   
The ground was ablaze now, and the wargs all retreated towards Azog. Some of them fled, their coats ablaze. Azog let out a roar as his horde of fiendish, distorted wolves was fled. The company gave many triumphant shouts, Eryn included.   
She looked down at Thorin again, and the fire was still in his eyes, this worried her very much. It had been a very long while since she had watched the movies, and she couldn't recall how far he fell down the lunatic well. But seeing as it was Thorin, she guessed far; she did remember a pretty good beating, though.  
“Fili,” Eryn pleaded, “We have to stop him.”  
"Stop who?" He said concern overtook whatever joy he had gained.  
"Thorin! I think he's going to fight Azog." She said, grabbing hold of his arm.  
“How do you know this?” His eyes were overtaken now by fear.  
"It's your Uncle, Fi." Eryn dodged, and he didn't seem to be buying that answer, but before he could press further, they heard a loud creak, and they began to lurch. They were falling backward.   
The shouts of joy turned to cries of fear as their tree toppled backward, dangling them over the cliff. Eryn clung for dear life and gripped her eyes shut, the view below her was enough to make her entire body tense and her head to spin. Thanks to her and Fili's dumb luck, they were stationed at the front of the tree, giving them a little more of the trunk to use as leverage to hold. She reached out for Kili's hand, helping him get a better hold of the tree.  
The situation was quiet, too quiet. Apart from the scattered grunt and yell, Azog was not as vocal, and that scared Eryn. She looked to Thorin, who was on her left, and saw their eyes locked. She knew the challenge in Azogs eyes as he widened them, beckoning Thorin off the ledge and when Thorin rose to stand, picking up a piece of the shattered tree on his way up; he had taken the bait.   
"Thorin, that's the bait!" She screamed at him.   
He looked down at her with a sideward glance, and Eryn couldn't decipher the look in his eye. Thorin Charged, his sword drawn and an oak branch in his other hand. Azog remained motionless as he beckoned him with his eyes and his arms outstretched, issuing him a challenge.  
The flames licked at Thorin's heels as he charged, alone, to face Azog as he did so many years ago. This time, Azog had him right where he wanted him, and Eryn knew that. As Thorin approached, Azog's smile turned into a snarl, and he leaped off his perch, sailing over Thorin’s head, but not before Azog’s white warg collided with his skull.   
Thorin laid there, stunned, the company yelled and cried for him to get up. After a few agonizing moments, he slowly rose and prepared himself for battle again. Azog charged, swinging his mace, and it collided with Thorin's jaw, knocking him to the ground once again. He had raised his shield just in time to take most of the force, but his jaw still took more of the impact than Eryn wanted to see.   
She didn't want to see any of it, truthfully. She clung to the tree, helpless. She was silently cursing her inability to fight or do anything productive. She looked around, seeing the agony on everyone's faces. Balin cried, and Dwalin was in a fit of fury while he tried to get Bofur in a self-sustainable position.   
Eryn looked to Fili, then Kili, their faces contorted with anger. Her eyes finally rested on Bilbo, who had a look she had yet to see before this day. It was then that she remembered one precious piece to this chaotic puzzle, Bilbo Baggins was going to save the day. He looked towards her, hesitance in his eyes, but there was a new passion there. One Eryn recognized as courage. She, too, had found that fire in her soul while she stumbled around in the goblin cave, and that was the greatest weapon they had. She wanted to encourage Bilbo to embrace that and carry that weight, even though it was too great. Encourage and motivate. Eryn sighed and looked to Gandalf, who gave her a firm nod. Eryn, in turn, looked at Bilbo and passed that encouragement on to him.   
Bilbo got to his feet and began advancing towards the battle. The warg had picked up Thorin now in its giant jaws, biting him. It held him there, taunting the Dwarves hanging from the tree, they shouted and cried, trying to scramble to get to him. Thorin lifted his sword to strike the beast, but it failed, and the creature threw him to the ground with a great force. His body hit the stone with an audible thud.   
Azog smiled and called to another orc. It smiled and dismounted its warg, sword drawn.  
Bilbo drew his sword, his jaw set, and he quickly but carefully moved down the tree.  
“What is he doing?” Kili asked, frantic. “He’ll get himself killed!”   
Eryn knew that Bilbo was more than capable, and she couldn't stand by while he did this alone. So, she did what any unstable person would do in this circumstance, and she slowly pulled herself up. "Bilbo! I'll be right behind you!" Eryn called after him.  
“Have you both gone mad?!” Fili accused.   
Eryn didn’t bother to answer. Instead, she stood and carefully began walking down the length of the tree towards the fire. Eryn had no idea what her plan was, but Bilbo needed help; Thorin needed help. She fought a goblin! How much harder could this be? She shook her head, knowing herself to be daft at best. She looked at the fire, bouncing on the balls of her feet. She then looked to Thorin now, the orc stood above him, sword placed at his throat, it lifted its sword, and Eryn's breath caught. She was long past the point of mental preparation; this was the time for action.  
Suddenly Bilbo lunged for the orc knocking him to the ground; both Thorin and Azog gasped. Eryn jumped as well, diving towards Thorin. She knelt over him, and his eyes grew wide when he saw her. Eryn looked up in time to see the orc throw Bilbo off him, rising above him, his sword raised. Just as the orc's sword came down, Bilbo shoved and swung his sword, cutting the arm of the orc atop of him. Bilbo now wrestled atop the orc and plunged his knife into its chest, killing it quickly. Azog stood shocked as to the chaos playing out before him.   
Bilbo looked behind him, assessing Thorin's current status, his eyes grew wide as well when he saw Eryn was right behind him. She looked at Bilbo with respect and admiration, giving him an encouraging nod. Eryn was learning the language of "the nod" from the Durin's she guessed. He looked as if her nod said a thousand words, and he stood taller.   
Azog laughed, amused by the sight before him, a hobbit and a woman. He looked between the two; his piercing eyes grew wide, giving Eryn a wicked smile. Bilbo bowed up to him, swinging his sword frantically, and Eryn reached into her jacket, removing the dagger, cutting her clavicle as she pulled it free; it hurt, but she tried to remain stoic.  
Thorin groaned, and Eryn looked down at him, his eyes began to roll backward, and panic sat like a stone in her gut. She had never seen someone this injured before. Eryn had never been this wounded, though she had come close. She began firmly patting his face, "Hey, hey, Thorin? Will you look at me, please?" His eyes snapped back to attention, and he struggled to speak. "Don't say anything. I just need you to stay awake for me. Ok?" she begged, pulling him.  
The wargs began to encroach upon them now, biting and snarling. Eryn braced for the onslaught of teeth, but like music to her ears, a shout of Dwarves filled the air. Fili, Kili, and Dwalin had arrived, swords drawn, turning the tide of the battle. Bilbo too jumped into action slicing the first warg that dared step into his path, but soon it was Azog in his way, and Bilbo froze a moment too long. It threw Bilbo at the foot of Eryn, clutching Thorin. Azog slowly approached them, his warg snapping its teeth and drooling at its potential meal.   
Eryn raised the dagger Dwalin had given her and pointed it at Azog. “You won’t touch him.” She demanded, causing a wicked smile to spread across his face like a plague. She didn’t know when she turned into a lunatic, but she blamed Bilbo, his courage was infectious.   
This past day Eryn had thought a lot about dying. It was concerning how comfortable she was with the idea of her murder being commited by a giant White-Out Stick of war. The pain itself wasn't appealing, and it wasn't the idea of dying herself that was comfortable, It was the thought of dying for a friend that was the more powerful. She was almost joyous to be able to participate in this manner, even if it cost her everything.  
The battle seemed overwhelming, and she gulped as Azog accepted her challenge, creeping closer and closer. Her thoughts were interrupted, though, but the cry of the Eagles.  
They descended like a wave of chaos on the battlefield, throwing the wargs and orcs like confetti on a windy day. The company cheered and stood in awe of the scene playing out before them. The eagles threw them from the cliffs in clusters, screeching and circled back for more until those that were left retreated or thrown from the cliffs. An eagle descended and beat its wings, fanning the flames pushing the remaining orcs back. Azog stood alone on the battlefield with his few allies and growled.   
Eryn saw an eagle approaching and backed away from Thorin, tucking his sword back into its sheath. "Just hang on," she murmured, "Help is here." She backed away from Thorin, and a large mahogany eagle scooped him up in its talons, sailing away. She noticed that many of the dwarves were disappearing from the scene. Some were mounted on the eagle's backs, clutching to their feathers, the less fortunate were gripped in their talons. But Eryn noticed that no matter where they were located, there was an abundance of screaming.   
She moved next to Bilbo now and offered him a hand, which he gladly took, but his eyes diverted to something behind her. He shook his head vigorously, and he began to mutter, "No, no, no, no…"  
Eryn turned to see a brown Eagle descending upon them. She started shaking her head and waving her hands in aggressive refusal. It proved fruitless, however, because Eryn and Bilbo alike were lifted off by the eagles, both screaming like children.   
The ground disappeared beneath them, and Eryn clamped her eyes shut. The wind stung her eyes, and the quick motion made her stomach churn. As they reached a safe distance, the eagles released them from their claws. Both her and Bilbo were sailing towards the ground, screaming. Eryn's stomach was in knots, and she'd had enough falling and lurching for one day, probably for life.  
Another eagle soared beneath them and caught them on its back. Eryn gripped its feathers tightly, her face smooshed into the dusty surface, and she sneezed. She had forgotten how dirty birds were until one hit a window or, in this case, or if she was laying on one in this case.  
They left Azog behind, and Eryn let out a sigh, although she knew that this wouldn't be the last they saw of him. She felt like she had been holding that sigh in for ages; with that exhale, she allowed herself to reflect on their previous circumstances finally, first the stone giants, then the goblin caves, lastly Azog. That was more than enough adventure for one day. She was exhausted, and now that she was allowing herself to relax, her body began to shut down. Her arms and legs felt as though they were cement, and her head was splitting. She didn't want to consider her mental state yet, the pent-up frustration and emotional turmoil coiled in her like a spring that was stretching beyond its limit. Finally, it would reach its threshold and snap, causing her mind to sway. She was already well versed in her mental stability, knew her limits, and when she could let go, this was not the time to let go. She would leave that until she was alone, whenever that may be.  
She looked down at the eagle carrying Thorin and sighed, how could she have helped better? Had she done all she could? He had taken such care in assisting her and making sure she knew she was safe, and yet she couldn't even do her part and encourage him to do differently. Granted, he didn't trust her, however, so why would he take her words of advice, but she had hoped that after the stone giants, she had proved herself reliable enough. She gripped the bird tighter and felt a tear roll from the corner of her eye. She wiped it away, shocked. Bilbo saw this and leaned closer to her.  
"He's going to be alright." He encouraged, but that wasn't what had Eryn in tears; it was her regret and self-obsession that made her angry.  
Eryn looked to Fili and Kili, and the agony hadn't left their faces since she last saw them hanging from the tree. They yelled for Thorin, but he was asleep.   
The sun began to rise over the mountains, and it split the sky like fire. Eryn shuttered, thinking about the flames dancing in Azog’s cruel eyes. She stopped herself, though; she would not let something beautiful spoil by the wickedness of one vile creature. Eryn saw the sunset and instead thought of the new day it beheld. She wanted another chance to prove that she could help, she wanted another chance to save Thorin; Fili and Kili too for that matter. Eryn wanted an opportunity to change both herself and the timeline of events, but she wasn't sure how.   
She rested her head on the eagle and watched as the world around her grew to light. The trees were deep green, the hills a fond yellow with wildflowers peppering its peaks. She saw waterfalls, and when the clouds thickened, it looked like a white see of candy floss. Eryn longed to reach out and touch it. She outstretched her hands and grasped at the air. To her delight, as they descended, they moved through a cloud but was quickly disappointed that it was wet and cold inside. Even so, Eryn laughed, when could she ever experience this in all her life on earth?  
The jolting of their landing jostled Eryn, she sat up, looking around to assess where she was. The eagle had landed on a tall perch, one covered with straw and brush. It crouched low and looked back at her nodding for her to dismount. She slid from the eagle, she soon recalled that she hated her legs, but the feeling seemed mutual.  
Gandalf was already on the ground assessing Thorin. He called to him, but there was no answer. Eryn stood back with Bilbo while the others grew restless around Gandalf as they each dismounted their eagle; one by one they gathered around him.  
Gandalf placed a hand on Thorin's forehead, and he dragged his hand over Thorin’s face and chest while he whispered something inaudible to Eryn’s ears. Before Gandalf even finished speaking, Thorin's eyes began to flutter, then finally opening. Gandalf heaved a sigh of relief, as did everyone else.  
“Bilbo?” Thorin whispered.  
"It's alright, Bilbo is here, and he is quite safe," Gandalf answered, giving a warm smile. "As is Miss Fey, you have her to thank as well, though I'm sure you weren't awake for her assistance." He looked gave Eryn an approving smile; it makes her cheeks warm. Bilbo looked more than relieved.  
Thorin began to rise, Dwalin offered him a hand, and he took it. When he rose, his eyes were burning, and Eryn's narrowed at the scene about to play before her.   
"You," Thorin began, stumbling like a drunk. "What were you doing? Do you know you could have gotten yourself killed?" He accused. Eryn was taken aback by the ferocity in his words; she had forgotten where this conversation ended. "Did I not say that you would be a burden and that you would not survive in the wild?" Bilbo blinked, clearly confused and hurt by the questions thrown before him. "That you were not one of us?" he finished, standing before Bilbo.  
Bilbo simply looked down towards his feet, but regained his composure; he looked far more hurt than he was letting on as he swallowed audibly.  
The group behind Thorin looked more than offended for Bilbo. Kili looked downright disappointed in his uncles' actions, while Fili was harder to read, though he did look as though he was about to jump to Bilbo's defense. They all did. Dwalin was turning read, and Balin was pursing his lips, his eyes glossy.   
You could cut the tension with a knife, and Eryn thought the silence would never end before a tender smile broke across Thorin's face, “I have never been so wrong, in all of my life.” Thorin breathed before embracing a stunned Bilbo.   
The group of Dwarves cheered, "I am sorry I doubted you." Thorin looked at Bilbo now with admiration, and Bilbo heaved a sigh of relief.   
"I would have doubted me too." He chuckled. "I'm not a hero or a warrior. I'm not even a burglar." Bilbo addressed Gandalf with this statement, who had a good chuckle over it.  
Eryn took notice of the smile on Thorin's face and the soft tone in his eyes; he was genuinely grateful and kind towards Bilbo. It was a look she had never seen before. For lack of better words, he was beautiful, cuts and all. This was the first time Eryn had honestly looked at his face; she blushed and looked at her feet.   
Then Bilbo turned to Eryn and placed a hand on his shoulder, causing Eryn to jump, she looked up slowly; hoping the blush had subsided. “I really should thank you as well. Eryn, your help was invaluable.”  
"I didn't do anything, Bilbo," Eryn admitted, thinking back to the events that had played out.  
"That's not true at all," Bilbo began, "If you hadn't encouraged me…" He paused, trying to think of an outcome where he couldn't have been brave, but Eryn knew that just wasn't possible.  
"Bilbo, you have no idea how brave you are. I promise you, if I weren't there, you would have done the exact same thing." She patted his hand and gave him a warm smile.  
“Miss Fey,” Thorin said, his voice was soft but commanding. “I have you to thank as well.” Fili and Kili approached her now, placing an arm around her.   
"As do we." They said, "To both of you." Eryn shrugged their arms off and chuckled, looking down at her feet.   
“Miss Fey, I am beyond indebted to you for the bravery you showed towards me and my kin this past day.”   
“Thorin, I think we’ve misunderstood each other once again.” Eryn looked up and searched his eyes, "We're on the same team, I want to be here, even though I didn't exactly plan on being here…" Eryn digressed but caught herself before she chased that thought down the rabbit hole. "See, this is more than just a means to get home for me. You're my friend, and I want to help you. I want to help all of you. So, please don't misunderstand. I do them because I care deeply for you, all of you." Eryn looked at everyone else now, and she saw looks of admiration adorn their faces. "You're all trying to reclaim your home, that road is long, and it's hard to carry that fire when you're walking through constant storms. Trust me, I get it,” her voice grew thick, “I want to help all of you carry that fire, to encourage and motivate you, with intent to keep it alight, together.” She looked downward at her shoes, embarrassed that she had spoken her mind so liberally, but she was growing fond of this new Eryn, this Eryn was becoming brave. She was also fond of the newfound sense of comradery she had with her leader.  
Thorin reached out and placed both of his hands on her shoulder, and it was when he did this, she winced, forgetting that she had nearly run her body into the ground and had two injured shoulders. Thorin noticed this and looked at her with concern, "Let's get you tended to as well; your injuries look worse." He nodded towards the bloodstain on her shoulder that had increased in size, not surprising Eryn in the slighted.  
As he walked with her over to Oin, she noted something that she hadn't realized before, and she had yet to have one conversation with Thorin that wasn't a question in passing, or confrontational.  
Eryn tilted her head away from her bloodied shoulder so that Oin could get a better look. He pulled the neckline of her shirt away and hissed at the sight. She guessed it was terrible but wasn't sure the extent of the damage. Eryn looked and saw Thorin patiently waiting his turn, intently staring at something on his shoe. “Hey, Thorin,” she called for him, he turned to look at her and hissed himself at the injury on her shoulder. “Can I talk to you?” she inquired, much to his surprise.   
“About what Miss Fey?” He asked eyes narrowed.   
“Anything!” She smiled and shrugged, much to Oin's disapproval. “And now that we’re friends, please call me Eryn.” She suggested.   
Thorin’s eyebrows rose playfully, and his mouth curved upwards slightly. “Very well, Eryn.” He said her name slowly, seeming to inspect it for error. Eryn smiled, pleased with their progress.   
This marked the start of her first cordial conversation with Thorin Oakenshield.


	12. Friends and Fair Comeuppance

It had been two days since the eagles had saved the company of Thorin Oakenshield. They generously let them reside in their nest until they had gathered their strength to continue, so Gandalf suggested they used the time to recuperate for a few days. The nest was a large bowl atop a mountain, thus leaving the nest was impossible unless you climbed down yourself or asked an eagle to take you, and Eryn didn't want to do either. The eagles brought them rabbits and sheep for food, and they ate merrily for the first time in a while.  
Eryn spent nearly the entirety of the first day they arrived asleep, and she had absolutely no regrets. In fact, everyone else did about the same thing. Some slept, some conversed, while others said and did nothing, almost as if they had turned to stone. Causing Eryn to suspect the Dwarves weren't born 'the natural way' at all; they were animated out of the rocks in the mountain by Mahal himself. Thorin did not find this suspicion very funny, he insisted once again that they were born the 'natural way' and wondered if Eryn did indeed understand how it worked. Eryn thought long and hard about whether she wanted to make him describe child-birth or not, she figured she’d spare him after all.  
Thorin and Eryn made more intentions to speak to each other, and Eryn tried to include him in the evening supper conversation. It wasn't a lively affair, everyone was simply too tired to speak, so that first night was quite uneventful. That evening Oin made it a point while he was lathering a generous amount of ointment on her shoulder, followed by tending to Thorin’s injuries, that he wanted to see them both one after the other. Not for any reason other than he didn’t want to spend his whole day doctoring people, he wanted to do it all at once. Eryn respected his wishes and reported the next morning to Oin, she arrived just in time for an uncomfortable disrobing. It was only Thorin's shirt that was missing, but Eryn blushed and averted her eyes, Thorin coughed uncomfortably, and Oin laughed.  
As for disrobing, Eryn was in a bit of a predicament herself, her clothes were either still in the cave or being used as Goblin toilet tissue. She still had her hooded jacket that was bloodied and her shirt that had seen better days. It was practically deteriorating, sweat-stained, and torn, with bloodstains on top of that. Eryn didn't even want to think about her undergarments. She didn't know what to do, so she asked if anyone had a spare shirt, she could borrow. Thankfully out of the kindness of Kili’s heart, he lent her one of his extras, which was also dirty, but beggars can't be choosers. Eryn also discovered that not everything was lost to the goblin cave, and a few of them were able to grab their packs in the chaos. One of the things recovered was Eryn's personal bag, which she rejoiced over because Eryn did not want to wait in the most offensive line in history to replace her ID once she got home. She found her phone was shattered, but everything else was mostly intact.  
Eryn asked Oin after they finished applying her ointment for a large cloth bandage or a strip of cloth she could use to 'wrap' herself; thankfully, he gave it to her willingly without asking too many questions.  
Her next order of business to assess how disheveled she looked. She feared to look. She still hadn’t inspected her shoulder; she had been putting it off after she got her small mirror back.  
Pulling the mirror out, Eryn wrinkled her nose as the ratty, pathetic woman looking back at her in the mirror. Her eyes were sunken and bloodshot, her lips chapped, and she was ashen from the dust and smoke. Eryn silently thanked the heavens that she wasn’t trying to impress anyone. A steady headache coming from the spot she received the blow to her head, Eryn lifted her raggedy hair and inspected the lovely black and blue lump that was blooming on her hairline above her left temple. It was raised and tender, she winced when she touched it.  
“That looks right awful, lass,” Dwalin cried, standing over her.  
“Looks worse than it feels,” she lied. “How did you fare in the excitement?” she asked.  
Dwalin shrugged, "A few nicks, scrapes, and bruises. I've had worse."  
"I'm sure you have," Eryn mumbled and rubbed her eyes.  
"I'm curious, what happened to ya, in the goblin cave?” Dwalin inquired, a few other ears perked up, and Eryn sighed. It was nearly dinner, perhaps she could be persuaded to tell a story before they ate.  
Eryn looked around at her audience and gulped.  
“Um," as she thought about it, her mind began redacting various parts of the incident. She decided to just start and see what her mind could recall as she went along, "Well, the goblin took me to a big room, I think it was the goblin king's personal quarters." she shivered, a few of the dwarves muttered something under their breath. "It smelt as bad as it sounds, trust me." Eryn laughed without humor, "I looked for a way out but couldn’t find one. After investigating if I was being guarded, I found out that I was alone; so, I just opened the door and walked out.”  
“Wait, so what you’re saying is that you just walked out?” Fili asked, eyebrows raised.  
“How did you get injured?” Bilbo asked, approaching.  
"After I escaped, there was a goblin that found me, and he attacked me, that’s when I got bit. I got away and found a channel that went downward, I figured that if I could find my way down, I might be able to regroup with you guys or find the backdoor.” Eryn said without thinking.  
“You knew there was a backdoor?” Bofur asked, much to Eryns shock.  
"Well, there had to be, right? That goblin mentioned us being on the 'front porch,' I assumed that implied they had a back porch," Eryn covered and quickly continued. "So I went down the channel, found a series of ladders and another channel, and kept making my way down. Once I got to a long bridge, the goblin showed up again, giving me this lovely souvenir." Eryn pulled her hair back, and a series of gasps and curses escaped their mouths, Eryn covered it back up and sat silent for a moment. This was the part that got a little hazy for her. "I think I ran some more, down a few more ladders and then I…" Eryn paused, swallowing hard. Her mind hit a bump, it was like her thoughts were muddy, and the wheels couldn't get traction enough to accelerate. "Then I…" Eryn repeated again and again like a broken record. She twitched, and her eyes grew heavy as they narrowed, searching the floor around her feet for an invisible answer.  
"Lass?" Dwalin asked, placing a hand on her shoulder, causing Eryn to flinch away. "Don't worry, lass, I'm not goin' ta hurt ya." He retracted his hand and looked to Thorin, who was wearing a concerned and inquisitive look on his face; his eyes dark and narrow.  
Everyone was staring at her more intently now, and she felt her face grow hot. Her eyes pricked with threatening tears as she became angry at herself for being unable to articulate her thoughts. They were hers; she should be able to express them.  
"Then, I hid," Eryn mumbled, rubbing her neck. "I was exhausted, and I thought... I thought someone was chasing me. I gathered myself and ran some more, only to run into my goblin friend again. This time I killed it." Eryn looked down at her hands, she was picking at one of her nails, trying to get the blood out from under them.  
Everyone sat there in uncomfortable silence for a while before someone dared to ask the question everyone was waiting for someone else to ask.  
"Are you alright?" Bilbo dared to question, and a few dwarves squirmed uncomfortably.  
"I… don't know," Eryn answered honestly but pondered the question.  
"Ah, I know." Dwalin proclaimed, "you've never killed anything before, have ya lass? Let alone been in a circumstance that you could have been killed as well."  
"N-no... not exactly," Eryn admitted. Dwalin fell silent, but only after a sharp look from Thorin.  
"It's perfectly natural," Bofur volunteered next, "I remember the first time I saw battle. I was a sorted mess for days," He said, shaking his head.  
Eryn thought about rejecting this idea as well but thought better of it. What was she supposed to say? That she was afraid of a voice? A voice her mind volunteered no less, they would think that she was insane. Thorin saw her internal debate display on her face and opened his mouth to intervene, but Gandalf beat him to it.  
"Now, now, Miss Fey is still exhausted from her endeavors. Let her sort out her thoughts first before you begin pillaging them," Gandalf admonished. A few dwarves rose to go back to whatever it was they were doing before Eryn's tale, but some remained, including Bilbo.  
Eryn felt like she would suffocate, and she had nowhere to run, so instead, she did what any healthy individual would do, she buried her thoughts and feelings deep in her mind and decided to change the subject. "So, what happened to you all? After they took me away," Eryn gushed at an attempt to lighten the mood, and it worked. As dinner was passed around, everyone remaining began their perspective of an epic tale. Thorin's bold stand, Gandalf's heroic entrance, sword fights, and their grand escape. Eryn laughed at their fervent detailed information, especially regarding parts of the story that favored whoever told it. It soon turned into an argument as to who killed more goblins in the tunnels, Eryn shook her head. Dwarves.  
"And then when we landed, we thought we were through with the worst of it until the Goblin King himself landed on top of us!" Kili finished with a burst of roaring laughter, clutching his stomach with the hand that wasn't holding his pipe. The rest of the dwarves, apart from Thorin, roared with laughter, though he did crack a smile while he lit his pipe. "Then we noticed that the goblins were coming after us, and we ran out the cave and gathered outside," Kili continued.  
Fili decided Kili wasn't finishing the story fast enough and interjected, "That was when we discovered that our Burglar was missing as well!" He nodded towards Bilbo, who was too, enjoying his pipe.  
“You too?” Eryn slyly prodded, she wondered what parts of his adventure he was willing to discuss. “What happened to you?” and she bumped him with her elbow.  
“Oh, well,” Bilbo began, abashed. He started fidgeting with his pocket, and Eryns eyes grew wide. He had it. Bilbo had THE ring. One of the most notorious and ominous artifacts in literary history and Eryn was sitting mere feet away. "I fell and got lost in the cave, but this awful, pathetic creature found me. Gollum was what it called itself." He nodded definitively, taking a long draw from his pipe, exhaling with a huff. "A peculiar fellow, he threatened to eat me if I didn't beat him at a game of wits." He propped himself upon his arm, a regal look in his eye.  
“A game of wits?” Eryn laughed.  
“What kind?” Bofur inquired.  
“Riddles,” Bilbo pursed his lips and nodded triumphantly. “I stumped him on my third question and demanded he show me the way out, but soon the little bugger decided I had stolen something from him and tried to eat me anyway,” Bilbo huffed.  
“Stolen from him?” Kili asked, “What would a pathetic creature living in a goblin hole have worth stealing?” He laughed, but Bilbo shifted uncomfortably.  
“What indeed,” He mumbled, taking another puff of his pipe.  
“Yes, what indeed?” Dwalin challenged, suspicious, and Eryn looked to Bilbo, who had smiled nervously.  
“What was the creature?” She interjected, leaned in closer to him, forcing him to look at her and not at Dwalin, “Was it a goblin, or something else?” Bilbo’s eyes darted between the two before focusing on Eryn.  
“Oh, he was wretched, fowl most definitely." Bilbo scrunched his nose. "Not a goblin, but…. Something else entirely." He looked downward, pity clouded his features, and he heaved a heavy sigh.  
"What's wrong, Bilbo?" Kili asked, his eyebrows tightly knit together.  
“I just can’t help but feel sorry for him,’ Bilbo admitted, and Eryn admired his compassion, “He truly was a pitiful creature, I just can’t help but wonder what or who he used to be.” He shook his head, somber.  
“Is Gollum still alive?” Eryn wondered aloud, unnecessarily.  
“He is, I could have killed him, but I couldn’t do it,” Bilbo groaned, “I should have.” A few dwarves nodded while others narrowed their eyes, skeptical of his choice.  
“Then that was compassion,” Eryn remarked softly, resting her chin on her knees, “You can’t be responsible for other people's actions and choices, you’re only responsible for yours, and I think you made a good choice.” Eryn smiled at the Hobbit, and he smiled back at her, grateful.  
Bifur, who was sitting by Bofur now, yelled something in Khuzdul, and everyone perked up immediately.  
“Why yes, Bofur, why don’t you give us a song?” Nori chimed in from somewhere Eryn couldn’t identify.  
“Well, lads, I think it is indeed high time for a tune, though, I have a better idea. Miss Fey,” Bofur purred with a mischievous smile, "Do you know any tunes? Why I would give my large toe to hear a whimsical tune from your world!" He boasted as Eryn laughed.  
“I’m sorry Bofur, but I don’t sing, at least it's been a very long time since I’ve sung anything,” She shook her head bemused.  
“Everybody sings,” he proclaimed, “Why even ol' Thorin here sings when given enough ale." Bofur howled and slapped his knee, others joined along with him.  
"Aye, I do sing when the time calls for it, but that's hardly as impressive of skill as knowing when to keep quiet." Thorin shot back, and Eryn laughed until a tear escaped her eye, she wiped it away merrily.  
“Won’t you sing something for us?” Fili begged. Eryn looked at him and his brother, her mouth open to protest, but couldn’t once she saw the delight in their eyes.  
“I wouldn’t even know what to sing,” She admitted, racking her brain over what tune she could sing that wouldn’t require explanation.  
“How about in one of those languages you spoke of?” Bofur offered, “The ones you said sounded like Khuzdul.”  
“Oh, well, yes,” Eryn pursed her lips, that would work out well, they couldn’t understand them, so she would have less to explain. “I do know quite a few songs in Russian I could sing.” She looked around to each person staring at her, looking for someone who could bail her out. “Do I have to?” She stammered.  
They all nodded and leaned in closer. "Go on, then, we all love a good song, lass." Balin beamed, sitting down next to his brother. Eryn gulped.  
So, Eryn did, she took a deep breath then began. Her voice was unsteady, it shook and broke, but as she continued, she realized that there was nothing to be afraid of. Eryn already warned them that she wasn't a singer, and who was going to make fun of her anyway? She sang a few verses from one of her favorite songs, and it seemed to captivate her audience better than expected. They stared, entranced. When she finished, she took a mock bow, and they applauded her merrily.  
“That was wonderful,” Bilbo praised.  
"Why I've never heard anything like that in all my life," Ori mused, and others laughed at him.  
"Well, you certainly are modest, Miss Fey," Bofur expressed, wagging his eyebrows playfully, “We ought to change your official title to Bard.” He rose and took her hand in his, placing a playful kiss on the back of her hand, causing her to blush.  
"Thank you, Bofur, that’s very generous of you.” She slipped her hand away and cupped it in her other hand, smiling up at him uncomfortably.  
"Well, I think it is time to rest," Gandalf announced, "We will leave tomorrow at first light. I have already spoken with the Eagles, they will take us as far south as they are comfortable, from there we will continue on foot."  
“Very well,” Thorin responded, rising to his feet, “Dwalin, you will take the first watch.”  
“Aye.” Dwalin nodded.  
They all took their respectful places in the nest; without blankets or bedrolls, it was hard to get comfortable. Eryn was still exhausted, so falling asleep was no challenge, but staying asleep, however, was a new challenge entirely. She dreamt of the goblin cave with a new addition, the goblin that chased her was replaced by a shadowy figure, who angrily shouted her name. Her feet were heavy when she tried to run, and her voice made no sound when she went to scream. Eryn woke incredibly thirsty, tossing and turning until she finally gave up. She sat up and looked around; everyone was asleep except for whoever was sitting by the fire on night watch. Eryn stood and tiptoed around the sleeping dwarves, approaching the light; she found that Thorin was on watch at this hour.  
“Hey,” she whispered, trying not to startle him, “Do you have any water?” she asked, sitting across from him.  
"Aye," he replied, handing her a water skin. She thanked him and took a long drink, it tasted so good, and she sighed with relief. "Trouble sleeping?” He inquired, “You were mumbling and tossing for hours.”  
“I guess.” Eryn shrugged and handed him back the water.  
“May I ask you something?” He looked at her with narrowed eyes, Eryn shifted uncomfortably.  
“Shoot,” She said, crossing her arms as well.  
“What is it that you left out of your story this evening?” He asked, leaning on a pack that was propped up behind him. “You seemed to have experienced more than what you were letting on. Did something or someone else attack you?”  
“No, nothing like that, it was just more mentally taxing than I want to admit.” She mumbled, and he tilted his head, looking at her scrupulously.  
“You know, this is the reason I didn’t want you to join us. I knew this would be too much for you, physically and mentally. The wild is no place for a woman.” He insisted, causing Eryn to sit up, she stared at him, her eyes bore into his. He began to fidget and shift slightly; Eryn wondered if she was making him uncomfortable.  
"For Pete's sake, Thorin," Eryn hissed, "I would be in this danger with you, or in a different kind of danger with somebody else. I was aware of the risks when I asked to join you, I'm not debating capability because no one like Bilbo and myself is capable of fighting goblins. But we make do with what we have.” Eryn rubbed the back of her neck, frustrated  
“Who is Pete?” Thorin wondered, his eyes narrow, “Is he, your husband?”  
“That’s what you took away from that? What is it with you and husbands?” Eryn demanded, “No, Pete is not my husband, it’s just a phrase.” She paused to better explain the phrase, only to learn that she had no idea who Pete was either, “I actually have no idea who Pete is, it’s just something you say where I’m from.” She heaved a heavy sigh, “And I’m not married.” She admitted looking down at her bare feet.  
Thorin shifted uncomfortably, looking deep into the fire, “Why are you so scared?” he finally asked after a long silence.  
“Scared?” Eryn tilted her head, “What do you mean?”  
“You couldn’t tell us what happened to you in the goblin cave,” he pressed again, “you intentionally left something out, and I want to know what scared you so badly, you won't even speak about it." He leaned forward, his eyes bore into hers, she felt like she was being cornered.  
Eryn took a breath and wrapped her arms around herself. “You don’t want to know.” she smiled wryly, “It’s too much to explain.”  
“We are, as you have said,” he paused, looking away from her now, uncomfortable, “Friends.” he finally settled on the word, causing Eryn to smile at his attempt at being friendly with her. “I trust Dwalin with my thoughts, so I hope you would trust us with yours.”  
“Well, when you say it like that,” Eryn chuckled, he surprised her with his way of rewording his question, for some reason she couldn’t deny him an answer when he asked in such a direct manner. Maybe she subconsciously wanted to reward him for his attempt at friendliness, but something she couldn’t quite discern made her want to tell him. “It’s a long story but, I was reminded of something, in the goblin cave,” Eryn started, her knees began to shake. “Something I don’t feel comfortable talking about right now, even to my friend,” Eryn validated, “But I will say that the stress of almost dying in the goblin cave, brought back memories of a time that I could have died in my world.” Her eyes welled with tears, but Eryn willed them to remain in her eyes, because the minute they spilled over, she knew there was no going back. She stared at the fire, hypnotized.  
"I felt like I was there all over again, "Eryn whispered, "curled up on the bathroom floor, waiting for the door to fly open, and my life would end just as quickly as I thought I'd fallen in love." The tears in her eyes grew, and she could barely see through them. But the firelight danced off them in a mesmerizing way, causing Eryn to forget what she was talking about for just a moment.  
Thorin stared at her for a long moment, his eyes grew dark, but he never said a word, he simply listened and that impressed Eryn. He waited for her. A tear finally escaped her eye, and she wiped it quickly with the sleeve of the shirt loaned to her.  
“But, that’s enough of that,” Eryn finally said after a few moments of silence between the two. "Will you tell me a story?" she blurted, wanting something to distract her.  
Thorin looked at her, surprised. "How do you mean?"  
"Any story, “Eryn sniffed, wiping the remaining moisture from her eyes, "I'm sure you were young once-" she stuck her tongue out playfully- "You probably have plenty of stories to tell from your childish days." She rested her chin on her knees and investigated the fire once again, trying not to pressure him by staring.  
"I'll have you know I am still quite young and capable, despite the veins of silver in my hair." He refuted, crossing his arms.  
"I never once questioned your capability, you've proven that many times," Eryn assured him, "as for the silver in your hair, I like it. I think it makes you look distinguished." She offered him this compliment much to his surprise. Warmth crept onto his cheeks, and he cleared his throat.  
"A story, well," he stumbled, Eryn chuckled at his embarrassment. He paused to think about what he wanted to tell her before a broad smile grew across his face. "When Dwalin and I were lads, barely older than Fili and Kili's age, we would go out and observe the farmlands for my grandfather. We would make sure the animals were treated well and the farmers we're not without." He began as he pulled out his pipe from a pocket in his cloak, "There was one farmer who was a bit disagreeable, and we would stay in a house next to his home and stables. He was very disagreeable, frequently complaining about the size of his lands. One day, he grew angrier than usual, and instead of reporting it to my grandfather and father, Dwalin and I decided to play a bit of a prank on him." Thorin began to chuckle and paused to light his pipe, "Each night for a month or more, we would go out and move his fence less than an inch at a time closer to his home. At first, it was hardly noticeable, but over time he thought he was losing his mind. He couldn't tell how much land he thought he had, because the fence was no longer in its original place." Thorin's shoulders shook with laughter, and Eryn couldn't help but laugh as well.  
"So, what happened?" Eryn prodded him to continue.  
"He tried to explain that his land was shrinking, but everyone else thought he was a lunatic. After a while, I grew to pity the man and began moving the fence back on our next visit to the farms. The farmer no longer complained about the size of his land, and nobody ever knew except for Dwalin and I," Thorin laughed softly to himself, "Well, and now you."  
"You were quite the troublemaker, weren't you?" Eryn joked, he simply nodded and grew silent, Eryn wondered if she asked an incorrect question. He looked at the fire once again, but then abruptly back at her once more. She was startled by the ferocity in his eyes.  
"Eryn, I promise you; I won't let anyone harm you. As long as you are with me and my kin, nobody will hurt you again." He said finally, eyes growing dark again, Eryn gave him props for discerning more from her story that she had told. Maybe she wasn't as subtle as she thought, nobody ever was.  
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice thick. “I’m really grateful to have the opportunity to be with you all.” She admitted as she rose, deciding it was time to return to tossing and turning.  
“I know,” Thorin replied with a small smirk, one that made Eryn narrow her eyes, suspicious.  
"What do you know?" She questioned, despite her better judgment.  
“You do love Dwarves, after all." Thorin teased, his smirk broadened.  
Eryn stood stationary, her mouth hanging slack while she tried to think of a rebuttal, but she was rendered speechless indeed. Thorin had won this round, and victory for him looked sweet based on the smug look he was wearing. Eryn snapped her mouth shut, raised her eyebrows, and nodded, turning on her heels to retreat to her corner of the eyrie. Eryn had received her fair comeuppance.


	13. Warm Sun and Lighthearted Compliments

Morning came far too quickly for Eryn's liking, the sun was warm on her skin, and she shot up not knowing the time. Gandalf said they were leaving at first light, and it was far beyond that.  
She ran her fingers through her hair with little success at taming her wild mane. Her hair was wiry and in desperate need of a wash. The grease was thick on her scalp, and she felt utterly dirty all over. She found a stray hairband in her bag and wrestled it into submission for the time being.   
Eryn was brought cold mutton that morning but nothing to wash it down with, and she silently begged the heavens for a cup of coffee or tea with cream; unfortunately, there was neither. She also noticed that she wasn’t the only one who shared that sentiment, Bilbo was mumbling something about tea as well.   
They gathered what they could, and the eagles presented themselves for their departure. Gandalf offered for Eryn to ride with him, and she accepted gladly, she had wanted to talk with him.   
Each eagle crouched low, allowing their respective dwarf, hobbit, wizard, and woman to climb aboard. Eryn sat in front of Gandalf, and before she knew it, they were high above the world again. The sight took Eryn's breath away, though she wasn’t sure if it was nerves or astonishment. She looked around and saw the terror on some of her companions' faces and delight on others. Dwarves weren’t meant to be in the sky, they were ground people, but the look on Fili and Kili’s faces told Eryn that they could perhaps be persuaded.   
“Miss Fey,” Gandalf called, startling Eryn out of her observations. “I’m quite proud of you.”   
“Proud of me?” Eryn asked, her eyes wide with shock, she turned trying to see his face, “Why?”   
"Because you proved yourself to be quite capable. When I was informed that you were separated from the company, why, I feared the worst." He informed her pursing his lips.  
“Me too,” Eryn laughed, “I didn’t expect to have to figure out my own part of this story, I was sorely underprepared. For all of it.” Eryn looked down at the smooth feathers beneath her hands, and she stroked a particularly shiny one absentmindedly.   
“Yes, you’re a variable I did not expect,” Gandalf admitted, “Though as I said, you have proven yourself quite brave and capable. I think you will be just fine.”   
“No, I’m not…” Eryn muttered, gripping the feathers tighter.   
"However, do you mean?" Gandalf asked, bewildered.  
“I’m not brave or capable. Thorin almost died, and I almost died too because I’m just a stupid girl who wished to go on an adventure.” Eryn cried; she was losing her stability. She wasn’t sure what it was about Gandalf that made her feel safe, but she wanted to tell him everything, her fears, and her failures.   
“My dear,” Gandalf sighed, “I agree that the single act of standing up to Azog was indeed foolish, but you are not. Thorin does what he sees fit, whether that is foolish or proud.”   
“How can I give him proper guidance when I don’t know what I’m working with entirely?” She exclaimed.  
“But you do know, you said that you have this very quest in writing.” Gandalf looked at her now with concern in his eyes.  
“I do, but what I didn’t tell you is that in my world there’s something called a motion picture, it's exactly as it sounds, pictures that move. They turned the book into one of those, and there are differences between the two versions. Azog is one of those variables. In the written telling of the story, Azog is dead, but in the motion picture, he is alive and is a constant threat to the quest.” Eryn paused, letting Gandalf digest the information given.   
“There are things that have happened that resemble the books solely, while other moments resemble the movie; other things are different entirely or are some strange hybrid between the two.” Eryn paused again, giving him another moment.  
“What I’m trying to say is, I’m not sure how I can help when I’m not sure what outcome I’m going to get.” She hung her head, trying to think of a solution. Gandalf remained silent for a while longer, and she thought she had perhaps said too much until he finally spoke.   
“Are the bones the same?” He wondered.  
“What bones?” Eryn inquired.  
“Every tale, great and small, has bones, they are a steady course we follow. If this quest's main objective remains the same, then we must adapt to the minor changes in the wind, it won't be too hard assuming you are familiar with both versions of our quest.” Gandalf smiled at her, and Eryn shrugged.   
“I am, but you make it seem like it's such a simple answer.” Eryn challenged, and Gandalf laughed.  
“Because it is my dear, you think far too much and cannot help if you do not have a little bit of faith, both in yourself and the concerns of your companions. Everyone believes that it is the sail that guides the ships, but it is indeed the wind that takes it where it is meant to be.” Gandalf looked down at her through his eyebrows, and Eryn turned away from him, defeated. He was right, she did overthink.  
“As for your personal challenges,” Gandalf began, his voice warm, “capable or not, it is not the strength of the body, but the strength of the spirit.” He paused now, allowing Eryn to ponder the words he had spoken.  
Eryn thought about this for a long while, she was so consumed with wanting to protect herself from harm that she was doing more damage than good.   
“I wonder if this quest is as much for your good as theirs,” Gandalf mused, drawing Eryns attention once again.   
“How do you mean?” She hesitated.   
“I mean, I may not be seen, but I watch, and I see you, Eryn Fey. Perhaps, this quest is for your wellbeing as well.” Gandalf alluded, raising his eyebrows.   
“My wellbeing?” She contested.   
“You have deep wounds, Miss Fey, and how would you be dealing with them if you were still in the comforts of your own home?” Gandalf challenged; Eryn's stomach twisted with embarrassment.   
“Well, I-” Eryn stammered, she thought of many excuses, but couldn’t voice them; there was no point in lying. “I wouldn’t be dealing with it.” She admitted, hanging her head.  
“Then hat settles it, consider your own struggles, before you contend with others, and trust your companions, my dear. They may be a proud bunch, but they are loyal to the bone.”   
“You’re right,” Eryn muttered and said nothing for the remainder of the flight.

The eagles began their descent, and Eryn saw the lush green trees and majestic mountains. They landed one at a time on the top of a flat peak, allowing their riders to disembark. Gandalf and Eryn landed last, and she turned to thank the great eagle when she had an idea.  
“Excuse me,” Eryn called up to it, the great eagle turned its sharp eyes down on her and Eryn almost decided against making any requests, “May I request something, of your noble… birdship?” Eryn cringed at her blunder.   
“Speak, woman.” The eagle commanded, and Eryn took a deep breath.  
"May I have one of your feathers? My Grandfather is captivated by your kind, it would bring him great joy if I could present him with one of your breathtaking feathers." She bowed her head, embarrassed that she was laying it on a little thick.  
The eagle looked at her intently before turning its head away from her, lifting its wing. When it looked back at her, it had a still large, but smaller feather in its beak; Eryn giggled with delight as it handed a glossy feather to her.  
"Thank you," Eryn sang, "What can I give you in return?" she said thoughtlessly like she had anything to give a creature such as this.  
“Be well.” It replied, and Eryn smiled up at the beautiful creature standing before her, grateful. The eagle flapped its great wings, rising on the wind.  
“Farewell!” The eagles called together, “Wherever you fare, till your eyries receive you at the journey’s end!”   
"May the wind under your wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks," Gandalf answered, and they all watched in awe as the magnificent birds disappeared over the horizon.  
Once the eagles were gone from view, they each heaved a heavy sigh and continued their trek. They followed the steps down from the top of the mountain they were left upon, which Eryn found to be quite odd, she had many questions as to why there were steps carved into the mountain, but she would save her questions for another time.  
The steps lead them down quite a way, Eryn thought that they would never end, but they reached the bottom after only a half-hour. Eryn was still sore and walking down steps was far more challenging than she thought, but she made do. She would do anything for a warm bath to soak in.  
Once they reached the bottom, they were met with a few small hills of smooth stone and a well-worn path beneath their feet. One way the trail led to a river and to the other a lush grassland, it was beautiful. There was also a small cave with smooth stones pebbling the cave floor.  
Everyone stopped to take in the view, and Gandalf spoke of taking a moment to gather themselves, she even heard talk of a bath in the river, which delighted her ears. Soon her delight, as well as everyone else's, turned sour as Gandalf began speaking of departing.  
“It is right that I leave you now,” Gandalf informed a displeased party, “Besides, this is your quest, not mine. I have other, more pressing matters to tend to.” He chastised.   
“But Mister Gandalf, how will we know the way?” Dori begged.  
"This is the quest to reclaim your home. If you do not know the way, then perhaps you should open your eyes." Gandalf admonished.  
“What if more goblins show up?” Gloin implored.   
“And Azog…” Ori muttered.  
"Then you do what any sensible creature would do and take up arms. Save me from this foolishness." Gandalf said, scurrying about the cave, trying to flee from another fear-driven question.  
“So, have you intended to leave us this whole time? Why bother coming at all if you had more pressing matters?” Thorin bit, causing Gandalf to halt, turning on the dwarf king.   
"I have always intended to see you safely over the mountains, and I have done far more than that. I will not leave you empty-handed," Gandalf softened, "I am not leaving this very second. We are without food, supplies, or ponies, and I can see that you do not know the way from here, I will take you to the company of Somebody I met years ago. He is the one who made those great steps in the mountainside" Gandalf nodded, looking down on all of them through his brow.  
A lightbulb went off in Eryns mind, and she grew excited, Beorn. The skin-changer.  
“Somebody?” Fili asked, “Who is this, somebody?”   
"He is someone who has lived in these parts for many years, my young dwarf. This is his domain, though he doesn't come here during the day. It's a good thing too, it would be hazardous if we were to run into him in the wild." Gandalf said, taking a seat on one of the boulders, removing his hat.  
Murmurs grew as each dwarf conversed with the other about the implications of Gandalf's words.  
"If he is so dangerous, why are we seeking him out?" Bilbo asked Eryn, nodded at his sensible question.  
"Because Bilbo Baggins, he is a greater danger to our foe than he will ever be to us." Gandalf nodded, sealing the conversation as final.  
The company dispersed and began piling what small belongings they had in the cave, once the armor started coming off though, Eryn excused herself.   
The sun was warm on her face, and she was reminded what everyone was removing their armor for. The river. Eryn was so focused on Gandalf's proclamation that she forgot the plans for a good bath.   
It looked enticing, Eryn noticed that nobody had moved towards it yet and she decided that it was high time for a little fun. She bent down to remove her shoes, bandages, and socks, then took off down the path. The smooth stones pressed into her tender feet, but she didn’t care.   
She reached back and pulled the band from her hair, letting it fly wild in the wind. The breeze was intoxicating, and she was brought back to fond memories of summers at the lake in Michigan. The murky tang of the lake and the sun beating down on her shoulders after she stripped off her hooded jacket was nostalgia at its finest. She didn't bother removing the rest of her clothes for modesty's sake and to give them a good wash.  
Eryn looked for the darkest part of the water, noting that the river itself was not particularly deep. She never slowed as she approached the edge of the water, a knot forming in her stomach as the anticipation built, both from excitement and the cold water that would soon envelop her. She found her spot in the water and stumbled in, falling backward into the water.  
The water rushed over her head, and she felt like a new person. This had been her first contact with water that she hadn't drunk in weeks. The coolness made her spine shutter, and she emerged from the water with a gasp. Her hair clung to her chest and face, so she ducked her head underwater again, brushing it backward. She floated there for a moment, staring up at the blue sky, and watched the clouds coast by.  
"Miss Fey!" She heard someone shout, and she quickly sat up in the water to see who was calling her.  
“Snake!” Kili shouted, and she squeaked, looking around frantically. The laughter that followed signaled the drop in her guard, and she slapped the water at them.  
“Not funny!” She called back, beginning to laugh herself.   
“Oh but it is, you should have seen your face!” He cried, gripping his stomach and leaning on his brother, who was also in hysterics.  
“How’s the water?” Bofur called to her from the shoreline.   
“Pretty fantastic.” Eryn giggled.   
"You took off so fast we thought you'd gone mad," Fili announced as more dwarves approached the water.  
“I probably am,” Eryn agreed, squinting up at them through the sunlight, “The prospect of washing for the first time in weeks makes a person a little crazy. Why don’t you hop in?” She offered next, but was met with awkward glances, stifled mumbles and rosy cheeks.   
“It would be improper to bath with a Lady, Eryn,” Fili informed her, which she did understand. Propriety and such.  
“Then why did you come over here? For all you knew, I could have been indecent.” Eryn inquired, genuinely curious.  
“We really did think you went mad, Miss.” Bofur laughed nervously.   
“We were worried about you is all. Not every day do we see you take off without a word or notion.” Bofur informed her, tactful, Eryn thought. “Thorin sent us to make sure you weren’t in any trouble.”   
“Well, good to know that if you ever think I’m in trouble, propriety be damned.” Eryn nodded, genuinely grateful. “I’ll be quick.” She smiled.  
"We'll give you some privacy," Fili said and turned with the others.   
"Oh! Wait-" she called after them, "Do any of you have soap?" A few turned and looked at her confusion clear in their eyes. "You guys do use soap, don't you?" Eryn looked at them and smiled dumbfounded.  
"Here!" Nori called, tossing something towards her, she missed it, and it splashed in the water with a loud thump.  
Eryn fished it out and found a bar of soap, it looked like the one she had been given from Rivendell. “Thank you!” She called after the retreating party and went to work.  
She grabbed her hooded jacket and submerged it in the water. Next, she stripped off her pants, shirt, and undergarments, giving them a good scrub. The soap did little for the bloodstains, but it did get most of the dirt out. Her jacket would probably be stained until she got back to Earth; she would just count her jacket among the losses. Next, she carefully removed her bandages and gave herself a thorough scrub. The dried mud, blood, and dirt began to cloud the water, even in the gently moving stream. She moved to her hair and scrubbed it, gently massaging her scalp, removing all the dried skin and dirt; it felt incredible.  
There were some hygiene things that she couldn’t do, like shave, but this was the small price to pay. When Eryn finished washing and rinsing, she let herself sit there for a moment. She was in a hurry, but she needed to take a moment to just exist. She felt the water move around her, gently pushing her. The cold stones beneath her and the gentle sand as it ran between her fingers. The water dripped from the newly refreshed curls in her hair. She felt the pain in her head, the soreness in her shoulders, and the tightness in her legs, she felt alive. Even in the pain and soreness, physical and mental, she felt more alive than she had in a long time.  
Eryn thought about her conversation with Gandalf, and the conviction ran to her bones. She was a mess. Her wounds were deep, and they were festering. She didn’t realize she was so bitter and rotten; how did she get this bad?   
Maybe Gandalf was right, perhaps this was for her own good? This quest was breaking her to the very core of her fear. Exposing it like a vein of silver in the mountainside. Except instead of something beautiful and precious, it had proven to be a material most vile, even she couldn't stand the sight and smell of it. But what could she do? Gandalf said she needed to consider her own struggles before she contended with others, what did that mean? Eryn knew of her struggles; she would be the first one to tell you about them. But then, she realized the foolishness in that. She wouldn't necessarily tell anyone precisely what that struggle was. She would allude to a problem, then act out on it or pretend like everything was fine. That couldn't be healthy. Maybe what she needed was a little dose of honesty, and Gandalf did say that she needed to trust her companions.  
She so desperately wanted their trust, yet she wasn’t willing to give it in return.  
Thorin, he shared with her a story from his youth, when she opened up to him even the slightest. Not that she expected him to unravel before her if she spilled all her secrets, but if he did suspect her to be keeping them, which she was, big ones, then he couldn't trust her until she was proven trustworthy. If she was forthcoming with him and trusted him, would she receive the same in return? No. That wasn't a way to live, though, you don't give things expecting something in return. Even something as important as trust.  
Trust is giving someone the faith they could very well turn around and use against you. Trust is a two-person bow, giving someone else the bowstrings while you hold the riser and face pointed towards yourself; this was something she had given to someone before. They pulled back on the bowstring with all their might, plunging an arrow deep into her heart. Here lies the problem. Here was the core of Eryn's hurt, and there was only one thing she could do about it, but she wouldn’t do it today.  
She ran her fingers over the face of the water and plunged her hand in, pulling up a smooth red speckled stone, a souvenir.   
Getting out of the water, she began to dress and shook her hair out. The sun had dried her hair some already, and she was hoping that her clothes were a bit more dried, but she was just glad to be clean. Eryn felt refreshed and cleansed in more ways than one, and she made her way back to the cave.  
“You look good as new!” Bofur exclaimed when she made it back, a few faces turned and smiled at her.   
“I feel better than that,” Eryn smiled, “I feel like a new person.” she laughed, tossing the bar of soap back to Nori, “Thanks.” he simply nodded at her.   
The party of dwarves hustled their way down to the river, and Eryn felt a touch guilty for having taken so long, but it was necessary.   
Deciding that her clothes needed a bit more drying time, her jacket, especially, Eryn sat in the sun just outside the cave. She faced inward to give privacy to the posy of energetic dwarves and one hobbit. Eryn discerned from the shouts and cries that they were probably wrestling in the river.  
Eryn laid sprawled out in the sun for quite some time, she wasn't sure how long it had been because she'd dozed off once or twice. Sitting up, she arched her back and rotated her shoulders, letting them stretch. Her shoulders were still sore and tight, and she wondered when she would be back to full mobility.   
Before her Grandfather retired, he used to own a farm, and Eryn would spend her summers there. She would be so sore at the end of the day, from gardening and tending to the animals. One summer she thought that she would never recover from the soreness in her legs after a day of loading and transporting hay. Her Grandfather noticed her hobbling around and told her to go stretch or exercise more. At first, Eryn thought he was crazy, but he insisted, so she did. The first few minutes were torture, but after a while, they eased up, and by the next morning, her muscles were less tight. So here, Eryn was, in the middle of a grassy field, doing yoga. Her arms and legs hated her, but after a few moments, just like her Papa Eugene said, she was better.  
It was at minute fifteen when she was mid ‘triangle pose to downward dog’ that she was interrupted.   
“What in Durin’s name are you doing?” Kili asked, hair slicked back and dripping.   
“Yoga.” Eryn said through a deep breath.  
“Yo-ga?” he repeated.  
“Yeah, its to help stretch, strengthen and elongate your muscles. I noticed that I was getting a bit tight from all of this walking and running for my life.” Eryn quipped and straightened out, deciding that yoga wasn’t going to happen with an audience.   
"That doesn't look like it would do much for your strength." Fili countered, and Eryn laughed.  
"You've obviously never tried yoga," She linked her arms behind her back and stretched lightly as to not hurt her injured shoulder. "It would probably be great for you. Though I don't know how well dwarves could do it, your bodies are built quite different.” Eryn said, noticing how much thicker they were than the average human. The weight dispersion was vastly different.  
“I am a warrior, Eryn,” Fili defended. “I have mastered the art of strengthening my body to endure the harshest of circumstances, your yoga can do nothing to me.” He said with a nod, and Eryn smirked.  
“Well, alright, why don’t you try it them,” She laughed, “Now would be a good time to do it since you don't have your armor on."  
Fili looked towards Kili, his face dripping with confidence, while Kili looked like he had begun sweating.   
“Let’s start with an easy one,” Eryn said, pointing to where she wanted them to stand. “Don’t stand too close together.”  
“Easy,” Fili scoffed.   
Eryn started with lunges, planks, downward dogs, and upward-facing dog poses, instructing them to hold that pose for at least five deep breaths. Soon she worked her way into chair poses, extension, and some for balance. She noticed that the scoffing ceased, and their grunting grew louder by each passing second, but they didn’t give up, which Eryn admired.   
“I thought you said this was hard,” Fili said through gritted teeth, mid crescent high lunge.  
"Shut up," Kili commanded, then promptly fell over. “How do you do all of that, one after the other?”   
“Practice,” Eryn smiled, “Want to try a hard one?” She challenged, and Kili backed away, shaking his head. Fili, on the other hand, stood at attention and smirked.   
“Let’s do a hard one,” He elbowed his brother, “C’mon little brother, giving up already?”   
Kili groaned and shook his head, “Fine.”   
“Alright,” Eryn sang, and readied herself, wondering if even she could still do it from the weeks without practice. She leaned over, explaining as she went, and they watched intently. She placed herself in a crow pose, one of the most deceptive yoga poses of all. Confirming this, both the boys scoffed.  
“That doesn’t look hard at all.” They both said in unison, smirking.  
"Well, then get yourselves down here and hold for 5 breaths," Eryn grunted, she was holding it well, but it had been a while, and her arms were shaking from the fatigue and pain. She would be paying for this later.  
Fili and Kili slowly raised themselves upon their arms, Kili let out a cry of excitement, but promptly fell forward with a loud grunt. Fili, too fell over and looked up disappointed.   
“Let me try again!” He shouted and assumed the position once more, only to fall over once again.  
Eryn moved to a sitting position and watched for the next couple of minutes while they tried to master it. Fili was trying to brute force it, using his strength to force his body in place. Kili, on the other hand, was able to hold it for a while longer than his brother, she noticed that he was taking time to breath more than Fili was.  
"Wow, great job Ki," Eryn praised, "Breathing is the important part. You can't just force yourself; you have to figure out the balance part, and that comes with breathing."  
He lost focus and fell backward, but he was very content that he was doing better than his brother was.  
“You’re doing great too, Fi,” Eryn smiled, “Maybe try taking a couple breaths and focus on relaxing.”   
“R-right,” he grunted, but then his arms gave up on him, plunging him forward.   
“Ok, want an easy one to finish with?” She asked, and they both nodded, breathing heavily, “This last one I’m sure you’re familiar with, it’s called ‘corpse.’” She said, laying flat on the ground, arms at her sides.  
“Is that it?” Kili asked, sitting himself down.  
“Yup,” Eryn breathed, “You just lay here and breath.” She followed with a deep inhale, they laid there for a moment, listening to the birds sing, and the breeze that rustled the grass.  
“This is quite relaxing,” Fili breathed, “I have to say Eryn, you made that look much easier than it was. I am exhausted.”   
“Its deceptive isn’t it? But its nice, makes you feel grounded and it reminds you to focus on how your body moves.” She sighed, sitting up.   
She studied their faces while they laid there, they were both so young. Kili was darker, and his eyes seemed more profound, though his look was softer, while Fili was the exact opposite, he was brighter and sharper. She could see the resemblance with Thorin who was dark like Kili but keen like Fili, the gene pool was strong.   
“What does your mother look like?” Eryn finally asked, they both sat up and looked at the other.   
“She looks like Thorin, only prettier," Fili said with a chuckle.  
"Our mother has raven black hair, eyes as bright as a midsummer moon, and a beard glorious enough to make half the men of Erebor jealous." Kili praised, his eyes warming at the thought of his mother.  
"She's a wise, stoic woman," Fili added, his face setting into a warm smile.  
“And your father?” She asked, picking at the blades of grass.   
“He was golden, like autumn wheat,” Fili said, and his smile faded. “I hardly remember him.”   
“I’ve never met him,” Kili muttered, “But I have been told he was a great warrior, kind and generous.” He said, picking at the grass as well.   
“He died in battle, another clash with Orcs.”   
“Oh,” Eryn sighed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know…” Which was true, there was never anything written about their father.   
“It’s alright, he is a fond memory for some, and a great legend to others,” Fili replied, “Our mother misses him, but she gets on fine without him. Our Uncle helped as well with our upbringing; we didn’t go without.”  
“He did?” Eryn said, her eyes happened upon Thorin as he was walking up from the river, he looked refreshed apart from the many scratches and cuts on his face. Eryn noticed the weariness that seemed to rest in his eyes.   
“He is more of a father to us than an uncle,” Kili interjected, pride beamed on his face, “He saw to our education, our skill crafting. Everything our mother could not teach us, Thorin did.”   
"He never had children of his own, and him taking up the task of raising us was a great burden to bear. He was subject to his father and Grandfather, and even though he seemed to bear a weight too great, he always bore it with grace." Fili looked towards his Uncle with admiration burning in his eyes. "I hope I can be half the king he is one day."  
Eryn looked to Thorin again, too lost in thought to hear Fili ask about her own parents. Thorin may be grumpy most of the time, but she couldn't argue with his character. He truly was a remarkable person; he's endured more than his fair share in his life, and for what? Eryn then felt a sharp stab in her stomach, none of them would ever see the fruit of their labor. Thorin would never sit on a throne, and neither of his nephews would live to see Erebor restored. The first time Fili and Kili would see Erebor, it would be there last. Eryn felt the tear roll down her cheek before she ever knew she was crying.   
“Eryn?” Kili asked, leaning over to get a better look at her face. “Are you alright?”  
“I just admire you all,” She sniffed, “You all have endured so much.” Eryn immediately felt the guilt of her lie and looked away, ashamed, but there was nothing else she could say.  
"Do not cry for us," Fili exclaimed, "I hope that one day you'll get to see Erebor restored, and the sun will shine on us once more." He stood to his feet and held out a hand for her to take, and she took it gladly.

After their Yoga endeavors and everyone had returned from the river, they gathered their things. Eryn put the bandages, socks, and shoes back on her feet, noting that her shoes had very little life left in them. Eryn then tied her jacket around her waist and started walking again behind Kili, who was chatting away about his concerns regarding this ‘Somebody.’  
They marched down the trail, through the tall green grass that looked so lush it filled Eryn’s heart with joy. The road turned through broad oaks and tall elm trees that cast shadows dancing with the wind.  
“Now, when we reach the Somebody I spoke of, you must all be polite and respectful.” Gandalf began as the trees grew denser, “I will introduce you two by two, and it is best you let me do all of the talking. I don’t want you to annoy him.” Gandalf looked pointedly at Bofur. “He is kind if humored, but he is appalling when angry, so I must insist you all remain silent until we are in his good graces.”   
“And this is the ‘Someone’ we are seeking out?” Thorin asked, eyes sharply drawn to the trees surrounding them.  
“Yes, his name is Beorn, and he is a skin-changer." Gandalf finally confirmed, and the dwarves looked between themselves, confused.  
“A furrier!” Bilbo squeaked, “He will be good company if we are to get better jackets,” Bilbo nodded towards Eryn, who opened her mouth to say otherwise, but he was quickly chastised by Gandalf.  
"Bilbo Baggins, do not be a fool, and do not speak of such things if you are in or around his home." Gandalf admonished, and Bilbo shrunk away, embarrassed. "He is a skin-changer," he reiterated, enunciating each word, "He changes his skin, sometimes he is a man of giant proportions and other times he is a large black bear.”  
“Wow,” Eryn breathed, “And he lives here, in the woods?”   
“Indeed, he has a great home up ahead. He keeps cattle and horses; they work with him, and they speak with him. He doesn't hunt or eat any creature for that matter, so I insist you also refrain from mentioning this as well. He has great hives of bees as well."   
Eryn giggled with excitement, the days spent on her Grandfather's farm were her most cherished, and she learned so much from her time there. She was a bit of a hippy child when it came to farm life, and saying she loved it was an understatement. The anticipation grew as they walked, and Eryn could hardly contain her excitement.   
Eryn kept up perfectly fine towards the start of the trek, which didn't go unnoticed by Thorin, who admired her zeal while wondering what had happened to his nephews to make them so exhausted. His excitement, however, grew to discomfort as the day went on. The day became hotter, and they grew hungrier with each passing hour.  
The even path grew to high slopes and hills, but the scenery did make it easy on the eyes. All along the road, Eryn saw beautiful wildflowers and thick patches of clovers all over the ground. The air changed from the crisp afternoon breeze to sweet honey and flowers. She picked some as she went on, tying and knotting their stems together, beautiful white clovers with golden yellow and blue wildflowers. Soon she had an impressive flower crown and adorned her head with it proudly and wore it until she had forgotten all about it.   
"Have you grown tired, Miss Fey?" Thorin asked at the end of their seventh break that afternoon, much to Gandalf’s disapproval, though he did insist they begin walking again, and so they did.  
“What gave me away?” she asked through heavy breaths. They had just crossed their eleventh large hill; Eryn had been counting.   
“You were so zealous when we started, I rarely see you at the front of the line with Gandalf, you’ve fallen behind.” He observed, taking a drink from his water skin and handing it to her.  
"I was feeling great earlier, but then those hills happened.” She laughed and took a long drink from the water skin. She found it odd as well that Thorin of all people was lagging behind with her just to have a conversation, he usually keeps his company at the front of the party.  
“I also noticed you discovered a new recreation to distract yourself,” and he nodded to the flower crown adorning Eryn’s head, the very one she had forgotten about.   
“Oh, well, I am a delicate flower, Thorin Oakenshield, and needed to be crowned as such." She winked, took another drink, and handed the flask back.  
"You are not one I would call 'delicate,' eccentric perhaps, but not delicate." He nodded, and Eryn cocked her head suspiciously.  
“Did you just pay me a compliment?” Eryn smiled, mouth gaping with humor.  
“Perhaps,” He said, shaking his head, “Though if you are going to respond in kind, remind me to never speak of such things again,” he said through what sounded like a chuckle.  
“Well, bless me, a joke from the great king himself? To what do I owe this honor?” She teased.   
He looked at her through the corner of his eye and pursed his lips, shrugged, then returned to his regular blank resting face. "The sun shines this day; perhaps it shines for your good humor.”   
“The sun doesn’t shine for me,” Eryn laughed, “Though I appreciate the compliment.” She looked down at her feet and felt the warmth creep into her cheeks as she pondered his compliment again, it was very kind of him. Eryn thought she would never get to a place of general conversation, let alone praises, and she was thankful.  
Her train of thought was derailed by a loud droning noise. She looked up from their usual resting place and saw bees, great bees, bigger than her thumb. They were in the flowers, and in the air all around them, they took notice of the flowers in Eryn's hair and began investigating them as well.  
Bilbo looked at her nervously as did Thorin, but Eryn mouth widened with excitement.   
"It's fine; they're just bees," she giggled, "They are more interested in the flowers than me." She smiled and carried on walking.  
"Would you like me to remove the flowers for you?" Bilbo asked. His eyes were wide.  
“It really is fine; they won’t sting me. Bumble bee’s get bad publicity because wasps or hornets will sting you for no reason at all. Bees can only sting you once, and they normally don’t unless they’re troubled.” She observed as another bee took up residence in the flowers atop her head. “These little guys are particularly cute too,” she giggled, “They really don’t even look like they should be able to fly, those fat bodies carried by their little wings, but they make it work.” She shrugged.  
"We are close," Gandalf interrupted, "We are approaching his bee, pastures."  
Sure enough, after only a few more moments, they arrived at a wall of magnificent oak trees, and behind that, a tall hedge of thorns. Talk about home security, Eryn thought.  
"There should be a gate just over there," Gandalf pointed with his staff, "Now, I will go in first, Bilbo, you will accompany me. Each of you will enter in pairs, and I will give you the signal when you can start filing in, but please, do not crowd in, leave at least a few moments between each pair." Gandalf was flustered, and this, in turn, made everyone nervous.  
"Are you nervous?" Bilbo asked as he approached Gandalf, but Gandalf ignored his question.  
“Bombur, you count as two… so do come in alone." Gandalf instructed, then retreated quickly towards the gate, “Master Baggins, I insist you keep up.”   
Before anyone could protest, Gandalf was gone.   
“Wait,” Bofur breathed, “What’s the signal?”  
Eryn sighed; this was going to be an exciting evening.


	14. Delightful Company

The company was a nervous wreck as they waited outside the gate. Bofur had his head poked around the entrance, watching for any form of signal. After a short while, they heard a loud cough, and Bofur ushered in the first two dwarves. Ori and Dori went ahead, and after five minutes or so, they were followed by two more and then another pair; soon, there were only six of them remaining.  
Eryn looked down to admire the purple flowers growing around the gate, only to notice a small brown creature weaving between her legs. She stepped backward, startled until she realized what it was, it was a mouse. Dwalin noticed and lifted his boot to step on it, but Eryn reached out her hand to stop him.  
"Wait!" she hollered, the few remaining dwarves looked at her, confused as to her outburst, "It's just a field mouse." and then it did something peculiar; it started to climb up her leg.  
Eryn looked, startled now as well. She resisted the urge to shake it off and instead held out her hand. The small field mouse climbed in it with ease, Eryn hadn't known a field mouse to do such a thing, it looked up at her with big round eyes and twitched its little nose. She smiled down at it, adoringly, and Eryn wondered if this was her princess moment; she was wearing a crown after all.  
"My heart," She sighed, she always had a soft spot for animals, it was a weakness of hers. Her Grandfather always said the opposite was true as well, animals had a soft spot for her. "I'm going to call you Pringle," Eryn whispered, and Thorin looked at her more confused than the last time she said something ridiculous.  
"Eryn, that is a field mouse, throw it away, and let's go in. It is almost time." He commanded, but Eryn wasn't having any of that.  
"Absolutely not, this is Beorn's property, I'm not tossing, throwing or touching any animal in or around his home with anything other than adoration." she scoffed, "Besides, he's adorable, look at him." she chimed and slipped the mouse into her jacket pocket.  
"You concern me, woman." Thorin sighed, grabbing her arm, it was time for them to enter, and Eryn hadn't even noticed it that only Thorin and herself remained.  
Eryn and Thorin were the last ones to enter, and it was magnificent. The land was so lush, it was enchanting. Horses, cattle, dogs, and Bees busily flew about the property; it smelt of wildflowers and honey.  
The walls of Beorn's home were tall and reminiscent of a great cabin or hall. They slowly entered, and the room turned to face them, Gandalf was looking somewhat nervous, and the large man standing in the center of the room looked slightly inconvenienced. Eryn swallowed loudly and approached with Thorin, who still had a firm grip on her arm.  
"Who is this now?" The giant man grunted, jutting his chin towards them.  
"Ah, may I present to you Thorin Oakenshield and Eryn Fey." Gandalf gestured with his hand as they drew closer.  
"Finish your tale, Wizard!" Beorn growled, "I've hardly known anyone to call Thirteen dwarves, a hobbit, a Wizard and-" Beorn stopped, his large brown eyes locked on Eryn, and he approached, towering over her like a great beast, "What is this? You're no Dwarf or Hobbit, what are you?" He commanded, looking down at her incredulously. Thorin tried to step in front of her, but she stopped him with a firm hand.  
"I'm Eryn Fey, I am a human." She announced.  
"Well then, Eryn Fey, human, I see my Bees have taken a liking to you." He nodded towards the hitchhikers she acquired on their walk in, they were tangled in the flowers in her hair. "You have more bees in your hair that I have in my garden."  
"It seems so," She gulped, "I quite like them too."  
"Do you now?" He narrowed his eyes towards her, then they traveled downward until they rested in her lower abdomen. Eryn flushed, her immediate thought was she left her zipper down, but these pants didn't have a zipper, so she wondered if she had forgotten them all together and this was just like those dreams she had in high school.  
"What do you have in your pocket, human?" Beorn demanded,  
It wasn't until she felt the movement in her jacket pocket, that she realized what Beorn was talking about.  
"Oh!" She exclaimed and reached into her pocket, producing her new friend. "It's just a little field mouse, he's adorable." she held him up for Beorn to see and he met her hand with his, the mouse then ran into his hand and looked up at him.  
The two stared at each other for a moment, before he looked at her, "I see you have met my friend, Pip."  
"Pip?" She narrowed her eyes, "I didn't know he already had a name," Pip then ran back into her hand and sat there, assuming the shape of a fat, fluffy bun. "You had a name this whole time, and you didn't even introduce yourself? Now I looked like an idiot," Eryn whispered to the mouse.  
Beorn threw his head back and laughed, it was a laugh so deep, it shook Eryn's body and possibly the windows. "No little flower, you do not look foolish, a friend to the smallest of my fellow-creatures is a friend to me. Now, Wizard, continue your tale." He demanded and sat on a large bench.  
So, Gandalf continued, he told Beorn about the eagles and their rescue, the great flight to the top of the mountain, and their trek to the very moment they stood at his gates.  
"A wonderful tale," he said, slapping his oversized hand on his thigh. "You could very well be lying, but the story itself pleased me greatly so that at least earned you a meal. As for you and your kin-" He stood and moved to stand in front of Thorin.  
Thorin stood tall, his arms crossed and his eyes locked on the giant before him. Eryn admired his pride. He was the only person she knew who could stand before a man of Beorn's caliber and look even more confident.  
"I despise Dwarves, your greed is a poison. But, if you are who you say you are, Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, and your company is respectable, I see no problem with you remaining with the Wizard and your woman." He nodded towards Thorin, who nodded in return, his jaw relaxing, and his eyes shifted to Eryn, who was stuffing the mouse back in her pocket.

Beorn clapped his hands, and the room came alive with animals of all kinds doing a great choreography, setting the table, readying the chairs, even setting out doilies on the tables to add some sophistication as Beorn called it. The dogs lit the grand fireplace and placed the torches they carried in metal stands fixed to the walls.  
Eryn watched in disbelief, there was no way this was happening. She had seen Goblins, Stone Giants, Orcs, Eagles the size of small planes, and it was the tap-dancing sheep that really did her in. She felt like she had stepped into a Disney movie.  
Soon the dwarves joined in, setting out plates and lighting candles, then they took the great platters of food from the animals and placed them on the table. Bombur and Bilbo took great care to not shovel it all in their mouths before their host announced the feast to begin.  
Eryn saw freshly baked bread, scones, cheeses, spreads, fruit vegetables, and various other baked goods that covered the length of the table. She squealed with delight at the food laid out before them. She saw the joy on everyone's faces as they began to take their places at the table, Beorn beamed with pride as he took his seat at the head of the table.  
Eryn was also delighted in the fact that she was about to live out one of her most coveted fictitious life goals, to participate in a dinner party with dwarves. She had dreamt about having a feast with dwarves since she was a little girl, and every family holiday Eryn imagined while sitting by herself at "the kid's table," that one day she would be dining with dwarves, and here she was.  
"Eryn!" Kili shouted to her from across the table, "Sit with us!" he waved her over with his hands, and Eryn skipped over to the other side of the table, bobbing and weaving around sheep, dwarf, and dog.  
She took her place between Kili and Dwalin, next to Kili sat Fili, of course. Across from them sat Thorin, Balin, and Bilbo.  
She took great delight in the merriment that followed, even Pip wanted to roam about the table, picking at cheese and fruit at his leisure.  
Eryn filled her plate with fresh cut apples and luscious berries, the bread she slathered in butter and honey, and the fresh vegetables she munched on merrily. The scones were lemon, and with the first bite, her tastebuds exploded, this was the most flavorful meal she had eaten since arriving in middle-earth. She took another bite of her bread, topped with cheese and apples, and cried propper tears. Bilbo, while sipping a cup of tea, wept as well.  
"Eryn, are you crying again?" Kili asked in disbelief. He reached for his napkin and handed it to her, which she took, slightly embarrassed.  
"I'm so happy," Eryn admitted, her voice thick, "I just love food so much." she choked, and Bilbo nodded, understanding the sentiment. Everyone at the table howled with laughter.  
"And the girl hasn't even had ale yet!" Bofur yelled, sliding a tankard down to her.  
"I'm not much of a beer drinker," Eryn cringed, expecting to be cast out at her honesty.  
"Well, tonight you are," Dwalin boomed, and handed her the tankard, clanking his glass against hers.  
The room was wild. There was laughter, shouting, and delight on everyone's faces. Even Gandalf was grinning with pleasure, and they all lifted their drinks to one another.  
"Wait, don't you say anything before you drink? Like a salute?" She asked, lifting her tankard, "You know, cheers?"  
They looked at each other and shook their heads. "No, lass, we usually just shout and then drink," Bofur explained.  
"Well, let me teach you one!" Eryn exclaimed as the excitement stretched across her face with a smile. "It's a Russian salute before you drink, you say 'za zdaróvye.'" She enunciated each syllable so they could say it easily, and they learned quickly. Soon they all shouted in unison and crashed their cups together, slinging beer everywhere.  
Eryn could by no means keep up with the rate they drank, she couldn't even finish hir first by the time Kili was on his fourth. Each time they all started a new glass, they raised them and shouted their new phrase, though as the night went on, some of them began to lose their skill of enunciating. 

"Tell me, Small Flower," Beorn called over the table, drawing all but Bomber's attention, "Who is it that you are joined to?" he asked, looking an uncomfortable Eryn square in the eye.  
"Um, excuse me?" She questioned; the ale might have been taking her mind for a spin.  
"To which of your companions are you joined? No man would let a woman such as yourself travel unaccompanied," he announced, taking a gulp from his cup. "Perhaps it is the young dwarf you are seated next to?" He said, nodding towards Kili, he flushed and shook his head violently.  
"No offense." He muttered.  
"None taken," she sighed back to him, "No, I am not married to Kili." Eryn wondered why everyone in Middle Earth was obsessed with spouses.  
"Surely not, I would assume you would be joined to someone of more, capable standings." Beorn looked pointedly at Eryn.  
"Capable? Compared to what?" Eryn challenged, and her eyes narrowed.  
"Perhaps it is the dwarf sitting on your other side, he looks more than capable." He nodded to Dwalin, who choked on his ale, and looked at Eryn through the corner of his eye.  
Eryn snorted with laughter, "Oh yes, I find someone who can signal a companion from miles away with only his forehead and the midday sun, quite capable," The table roared with laughter, "No offense, Dwalin." Dwalin, however, muttered something into his tankard, not finding it funny.  
"Perhaps the crown on your head speaks to your status, you are a queen then?" Beorn announced looking pointedly towards Thorin, who stopped mid-drink and looked between Beorn and Eryn, he pursed his lips and shook his head.  
Eryn tried to stifle the laughter, but could not, the ale was more potent than her will. "No, I have no spouse," she announced, "I'm far too selective to just marry any dwarf I meet on the road." She laughed, taking another sour drink of her ale.  
"Then what do you deem worthy in one's character?" He pressed, and Eryn sighed deeply and looked around with heavy eyelids, she was growing tired.  
"Respect," Eryn said through a clenched jaw, "To give and be given in return." She hadn't intended to answer so honestly and looked down at the dark amber liquid in her cup. "The next man I intend to marry, I want to at least have some shred of propriety."  
"Is that why you have those white lines on your palms and arms, Little Flower?” Beorn asked, and the room grew silent.  
Eryn shifted uncomfortably and slipped her hands deep into her sleeves, trying to hide the evidence. How did he know? How could he even see them from so far away? She looked around and saw everyone staring intently at her, their eyes were either on her face or looking for her hands, which she was glad she hid. Her eyes landed on Thorin, who was looking at her through narrowed eyes, she wasn't sure what her eyes said to him, but he understood her discomfort and opened his mouth to say something, but once again, Gandalf beat him to it.  
"Master Beorn, where Miss Fey is from, it is most disrespectful to bring up such things and at dinner no less." Gandalf chuckled light-heartedly and looked at Eryn, giving her a nod.  
"My apologies Flower, I was unaware. I shall not speak of it in such a manner again at the supper table." He said, lifting his cup and chugging the last of his drink.  
"It's not a problem," Eryn said, giving a weak smile, "You didn't know."  
"What is it that you would have us do?" Thorin injected, giving Eryn a quick sideways glance, who was thankful for the change in topic. "While we are here, I'm sure we can be of some use."  
"Tend to my crops and animals while I am gone, I'm sure some of you have experience tending a field." He looked around, and each dwarf looked at the other, expecting someone to volunteer.  
"I can help," Eryn said, raising a sleeve covered hand, "I have experience with farming."  
"Very well, Flower, you will see to my land being tended to while I am gone." He said, standing from the table.  
"Where will you be going?" Bilbo asked, looking at Gandalf with a touch of worry in his eye.  
"I must see if your story is true. If it is, I will aid you in your travels, if not, you will not like the consequences." He nodded, and everyone's eyes grew wide. "If your tale is true, you have nothing to fear." He placed a large hand atop Bilbo's head, and Bilbo flinched away, causing Beorn to boom with laughter.  
He walked off into another room, and everyone looked at one other, wondering if they should continue, after a minute, Bombur began eating again, and dinner proceeded with little interruption. The joyful banter returned, but Eryn found it hard to continue her meal with the same joy she started it with.  
Eryn felt the heavy eyes on her and decided that she was done with dinner. She looked up and saw Bilbo, staring at her concern hung heavy on his brow, and he pursed his lips, only looking away when he saw her staring back. Maybe she was paranoid, the world didn't revolve around her, and she was sure nobody cared about her and Beorn's conversation, but the eyes that darted away from her when she caught them staring, didn't give her much confidence. So, she thanked their host for the meal and rose, taking a large chunk of bread with her.  
Eryn didn't know where she wanted to retreat, and she didn't know the grounds very well, so she decided the front porch would be a sufficient place to sit while her companions continued their meal.  
The night air was warmer than expected, but still crisp, as she sat on the edge of the deck, swinging her legs. The laughter inside was dying down, and she thought perhaps they were cleaning up or passed out drunk. Eryn nibbled on her bread slowly, Pip had joined her as well, and she broke off a little bit for him, but he didn't seem interested; instead, he climbed back inside her pocket.  
She heard heavy footsteps behind her and turned to see Beorn stepping out onto the deck.  
"You shouldn't be out here at this hour," he informed her, and she shrugged.  
"I figured you were in there, so I have some time to enjoy the evening air before you went bear-serk." Eryn laughed at her own joke, as it seemed word puns were lost on her audience.  
"There are other things that roam these forests," His eyes darted around the grounds, and she felt a chill run down her spine, realizing she didn't know much about the land Beorn resided in. "If the Wizards tale is true, Azog will be watching, as will his foul army." He spat at the creature's name.  
"Beorn," Eryn craned her neck upwards to see the giant man, and his large, chocolate brown eyes stared down at her, expectant. "How did you know about the scars on my hands?"  
"I know an injured animal when I see one," Beorn crossed his arms, his stair unmoving. "And someone has been very cruel to you."  
"I am not an animal." She muttered.  
"Ah, but all creatures have these things in common. You bite, and you scratch, it is a basic instinct in all of us. Injured animals especially tend to panic, bearing their fangs when confronted, with help or otherwise," He grinned down at her, and Eryn wanted to smack that smug look off his face. "I have many eyes that see for me, the one you keep in your pocket told me of your misfortune." He nodded towards her, and Eryn looked down at the mouse in her pocket, traitor.  
"I'm working on it, alright?" She flung her hands into the air, defeated, "I'm doing my best, to be honest, but there are some scars I don't want to discuss, let alone in front of people who didn't even know they existed in the first place." Eryn's eyes began to prick with threatening tears.  
"Scars are to be worn like a badge of honor, Prized Flower, and less like armor to defend ourselves, especially against the things that could help us grow." Eryn looked at the scars on his bare chest, and her eyes grew soft, understanding that he of all people knew what power scars could hold. He held out his enormous hand to her, and she saw even more faint lines cross over his palm and arms  
"Why do you keep calling me that?" She asked, placing her hand in his, it looked like a child's in comparison.  
"Because you must know your worth, and anyone who can see the beauty in the weeds is worth admiring." He nodded to her and ushered her inside, "Now, I must be off, stay indoors at night, and I will be back before long."  
When they entered, she noticed a few dwarves were standing suspiciously close to the door. Thorin didn’t even bother to hide it, as he was leaning on the threshold of the door, obviously listening to their conversation.  
"Tend to my creatures, and I will see if your tale is true." He nodded to them and left, slamming the door behind him. 

The fire was a low roar as the company began gathering things to sleep on in the room adjacent to the dining room. They found blankets, cushions, and mattresses stuffed with hay. It reminded Eryn of the nights she used to spend in her Grandfather's barn, waking up itchy and covered in feathers from the chickens who decided she needed companions. She helped carry blankets they found with a little help from the dogs, and Dori began making tea. It was a warm and cozy affair; some sipped more mead while smoking their pipes. The dogs came in to place more logs atop the fire, and the dwarves sat in a circle, talking and laughing together.  
Eryn watched from the table, her cup of tea sat warmly between her intertwined hands, and she sipped it slowly. She admired their oneness and smiled, she couldn't help but envy their comradery and fellowship.  
Fili turned and looked at her as she admired the company sitting before her, though she didn't notice his watchful eye at first, he soon ushered her over with a wave of his hand. "Eryn, why do you sit alone? Join us!" A few others turned as well and waved her over; she rose, delighted.  
"Alright lads, and lass," Bofur said, tipping his beanie in Eryn's direction. "What song shall we have this evening? The moon and spirits are high, so I think it is high time for a song." He rose to his feet, slapping his knees.  
"I saw some instruments in the back room," Bilbo announced, causing a few of the dwarves to bound to their feet.  
"Well, lad, lead on!" Dwalin, of all people, boomed.  
Taken aback, Bilbo pursed his lips and took a few dwarves to where he saw the instruments. They emerged not long after with a fiddle, something that resembled a guitar and a fiddle. Dwalin, fiddle in hand, drew the bow across the strings like he had been greeted by an old friend.  
"I didn't know you played the fiddle," Eryn smiled up at Dwalin from her place next to the fire.  
"Aye lass, we may be warriors, but we love a good song." He nodded and tuned the instrument accordingly.  
Soon the room was alive with string instruments, flute, and the stomping of feet. The song they sang was one Eryn was unfamiliar with, but she swayed along just the same, a smile never left her face.  
Next, there was swaying and dancing, before she knew it, Bofur had Eryn on her feet, dancing about the room, it wasn’t long after they started that Bofur accused her of having two left feet, which Eryn profusely denied, though the proof was evident.  
They bobbed, twirled, and whirled the evening away. Bifur tapped in next to dance, and soon she was passed between Fili and Kili, who joined in without question. Bilbo also took a turn at dancing with Eryn, much to her delight. It was the perfect evening. They laughed until their stomachs hurt, and Eryn was beyond delighted.  
Eryn was dancing with Fili once again, they skipped, and he twirled her about the room, she had danced with almost everyone, those playing instruments excluded; even Balin danced for a few turns. Fili turned to spin her again and spun her right into the hands of Thorin, who didn't look particularly amused, though there was a look in his eye that Eryn couldn't identify. She saw a glimpse of such anticipation and desire to participate, but it moved swiftly between denial and want. His eyes narrowed, and he took her hand. At first, Eryn thought he would dance with her, but instead, he gracefully twirled her back into the hands of his nephew, who wore a face of disappointment.  
"What did you expect?" Eryn challenged as they continued their parade about the room, "Your uncle has no interest in parading around with me." She laughed, trying to cover the disappointment in her voice.  
Eryn wasn't sure why she was disappointed, but she hoped that Thorin would at least be warming up to her. Though that didn't necessarily mean that he had to dance with her. Maybe he just didn't want to dance.  
"Uncle is quite a graceful dancer; he and my mother dance every Durin's day," Fili informed her, verifying one of her theories.  
"Maybe he just doesn't want to dance right now." She smiled at him, growing tired of the activity herself. "I think I'll be finished once this song is done."  
"Very well," Fili said, passing her off to his brother, who took her hand delighted. 

They finished after Eryn sat down, and the room grew, cozy once more. They continued to sing, though this time, it was softer and harmonious, and a few of the dwarves retreated to their beds.  
Eryn took her place in the corner atop her own mattress stuffed with hay. It was far more comfortable than Eryn had remembered, but then again, she was far more exhausted than the last time she slept on hay.  
The singing continued throughout the evening as Eryn dosed in and out of consciousness, soon, she succumbed to the weight of her eyelids and was asleep.

Eryn was surprised when her eyes opened, and it was still dark. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, taking inventory of the room, she could hardly see, the only light came from the soft flame that flickered on the hearth.  
Eryn stood; the smooth wood floor felt cool on her bare feet. She saw the light coming from the dining room, and she tiptoed to the adjacent room, sliding the door closed behind her.  
She turned and saw Thorin, seated at the table, pipe in one hand and a steaming cup in the other.  
“What are you still doing up?” She whispered, taking a seat on the bench. She propped her head upon her elbow and shook her hair between her fingers, it was then that she was reminded yet again that she had flowers in her hair. She untangled the flower crown and set it on the table; They were crumpled, brown, and wilted.  
“I could ask you the same thing, this is no hour for you to be awake.” He mumbled, taking a sip from his cup.  
“So we’ve reached a stubborn stalemate. What are you drinking?” She asked, leaning over the table to get a look into his cup.  
“Tea,” he informed her, tilting his cup for her to see, “There’s more in the kettle.” he nodded towards the metal pot on the table.  
Eryn rose to retrieve a cup and a few slices of bread leftover from supper from the kitchen, once she acquired her spoils, she scurried back into the dining room. When Eryn returned, she poured herself a cup and handed Thorin a slice of bread, which he took, thanking her.  
They sat there in silence for a moment, Eryn staring into the fireplace, and Thorin puffed on his pipe, staring into the inferno as well.  
She looked at him and studied his face, he looked tired, not just physically, but mentally as well. She saw him the same as she had that morning, only the shadows cast from the fire made the lines on his face look deeper set. Thorin didn't look old; in fact, he seemed quite young for, however old he was.  
"I admire you," Eryn finally said, then immediately wished he didn't hear her so she could deny having said anything at all.  
"Why?" He responded sharply, taken aback.  
"Because you're so confident. You know exactly what you want, and everyone knows it. You command a room with your very presence, and it's just inspiring." She fidgeted with her cup, running her finger around the lip. "You're a great leader and an incredible Uncle. There isn't a dwarven here who wouldn't follow you to their grave." She looked behind her to the door leading to the sleeping party of dwarves, snoring loudly.  
"I hope it is not misplaced," he sighed, his eyes downcast.  
“It isn’t, and Fili and Kili are lucky to have you," she propped her head upon her arm again, her eyes fixed on the fire. "The sacrifice you gave to raise them is something most parents wouldn't even give their own children." She hummed.  
“Perhaps,” Thorin nodded, “I take it my nephews informed you of their upbringing.”  
"They told me a little bit about their mother and father, but mostly about how their Uncle raised them, with duty and respect." she smiled at him, "They admire you a lot."  
“I have raised them as my own, I hope they at least have a few gracious words.” He mumbled into his glass. “Speaking of my nephews, as I did raise them, I do worry about your familiarity with them.” He informed her.  
Eryn was taken aback, “How do you mean?”  
"I mean, you are quite familiar with them, what is your intention? If it is a courtship, I do not think-" then Eryn interrupted him with a fit of laughter.  
“Fili and Kili are wonderful, and I’m sure they would make any woman very happy, but they are not exactly my type. They’re rowdy and prank too much, I prefer a quieter life.” She shrugged, and a lighthearted laugh escaped her.  
He looked at her from over the top of his glass and set it down silently, studying her face. "He's right you know," Thorin nodded, his eyes now fixed on the wall behind Eryn.  
"Who?" She asked, following his eyes to see if the person in question was behind her, all she saw was blank space and the dancing shadows cast by the fire. “If you mean Bofur, he’s a liar, I do not have two left feet. I took dancing lessons when I was six, so obviously, I am a master.”  
"What? No, you speak so wildly, it baffles me, woman.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, “I mean Beorn, he speaks the truth. Not many see the value in flowers of the field, feathers of a bird, or stones in a river." His eyes lowered to the crumpled flowers on the table, and Eryn saw a smile creep across his face. This smile she noticed was reserved for a few things- when someone was telling a story of his home, his nephews did something that made him proud, or when he was alone and thought nobody was watching.  
Erin's eyes softened, and her mouth curved into a grateful smile. To say she was flattered was an understatement. She didn't know that he was watching as carefully as he did, and that made her stomach do something it hadn't done in years, she felt the slightest flutter. He looked at her, and the smile faded from his face as their eyes locked, a warm color formed on his cheeks, and it wasn't from what was in his cup. He was embarrassed.  
"I didn't know you noticed all of that," she admitted brushing her hair to one side, and fidgeting her thumbs, she was out of tea and running out of things to nervously fidget with.  
"I may not draw attention to myself, but I observe," Thorin said, crossing his arms over his chest.  
"I know, beautiful things don't ask for attention," Eryn said, then stood to her feet.  
He stared at her for a few silent moments before rising as well, "That is so," he nodded towards her  
“Well, it’s late, I’m going to try and sleep a bit more.” She nodded, wrapping her arms around her middle.  
“Goodnight, Miss Fey,” He said, as he watched her wander to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone is enjoying time with family this holiday weekend, even though the circumstances are challenging, don't forget to enjoy time with family and do a little something relaxing for yourself, even if it's just taking a bath or eat a whole loaf of bread, nobody will judge you.


	15. Churning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N PLEASE READ BEFORE CONTINUING****
> 
> Dear readers, due to the nature of this chapter, I have to announce that it details domestic violence, there are lovely "****" at the start of the description and at the end. If you are uncomfortable or have an issue with this, just skip what is marked entirely, I have written it so that you can still enjoy the story, but not be disturbed in the process.
> 
> Thank you! -B

Eryn woke to quite the commotion, the clammer of breakfast dishes and shouting of dwarves made her bolt upright. She hurried to her feet and went to relieve herself in the corporate bathroom, which surprised Eryn that Beorn had, but in all honesty, it was just an archaic porta-potty. Shuffling into the kitchen, she laid eyes on the breakfast feast that had begun without her.

"Sorry we didn't wake you, you looked quite content with your sleep." Bilbo chirped, spreading butter and jam on his toast.

"I'm glad I did wake up, there wouldn't be any breakfast left, if I slept any longer." She laughed.

Eryn fixed herself a plate, wandering around the table, picking what she liked from the various scattered platters across the table. She made her way to the plate of fruit when she smelt it. Coffee.

"Who made coffee?" Eryn asked, looking around at any cup visible.

"Aye lass made some just minutes ago." Dwalin raised his steaming cup towards her, and Eryn giggled with glee. She put her plate down and skipped over to where Dwalin sat and grabbed a glass of her own. He filled it generously, and Eryn held it to her lips, enjoying the warmth and smell. The first sip was heavenly, and Eryn was sure the noise she made was quite unladylike. Oin turned and looked at her, concern played out on his face. Dwalin and Thorin only shrugged, they seemed to be used to her antics by now.

She finished her breakfast and looked around at the delighted company, Bilbo, in particular, looked as if the heavens themselves opened and offered him a biscuit to go with his tea.

After breakfast, Eryn's mind snapped into work mode, she hadn't managed a house in quite some time, so she began taking inventory of what needed to be done.

"Thorin, may I begin delegating tasks? Or would you like me to tell you what needs to be done, and you can direct accordingly?" She asked, bouncing on her heels, this was the most excited Eryn had been since starting this grand adventure.

He looked at her then shrugged, a humored smile at the edge of his lips "I am indifferent, lead on since you were so confident last night." He crossed his arms, standing next to her as she began to delegate tasks.

The animals needed to be cared for, the garden tended, and the kitchen required tidying, along with any other task they saw fit to take on. So, Eryn separated them into uneven thirds, Dwalin, Bifur, Fili, Kili, and Thorin would see to the animals. Bofur, Nori, Oin, Gloin, and Ori would tend the gardens, while Balin, Bombur, Dori, and Bilbo would see to the kitchen. After these tasks were complete, they were to see her and move onto the next thing. Eryn, bounced between the groups, assisting with jobs as necessary.

She started in the stables, bringing them baskets for the eggs and buckets to milk the cows. Then she brought a bucket of old food scraps she'd found in the kitchen to the garden, and helped them start a compost pile in the corner of the garden. She then stole Fili from the stables to help her draw water from the well, taking a jug to the garden and two to the kitchen for cleaning. She returned to the stables and retrieved the eggs and milk that they had collected, Fili then helped her take them to the kitchen cellar to cool.

Once she finished her starting tasks, she went to the garden to assist with pulling weeds. The soil was the sweetest thing Eryn had smelt in years, she missed working with her hands and turning soil between her fingers. It was therapy, her Grandfather used to say, nothing chased the blues away like pulling a couple potatoes, so she did. They had cleaned half of the garden and harvested the ready vegetables before noon; Eryn was quite pleased with what they had accomplished.

She hummed, and she skipped from task to task, the work was hard, but it was good, and she enjoyed every minute of it. It reminded her fondly of her Grandmother, Eryn would help her tend the garden and work every piece of their life into a sustainable one. Her Grandmother was a work of art, she had such a way with living things, every creature down to caterpillars that ate their tomato plants she adored.

She entered the stables and smiled at the work that had been done, they had the stable cleaned and swept, the horses looked brushed and satisfied. Bifur and Dwalin were leading the cattle out to graze, and Thorin was tossing hay into the animal troughs, while Fili and Kili were nowhere to be found.

She watched him work for a moment, against her better judgment and admired his work ethic. If he had cleaned this entire stable on his own, Eryn was impressed. She watched as he dug the fork into the pile of hay, then threw it into its intended trough. She couldn't help but notice the strength and intention at which he worked, and now Eryn caught herself admiring more than his work ethic. His sleeves were rolled up, and he didn't have all of his usual armor on. Eryn was always a sucker for well-worked forearms, and she felt a touch embarrassed that she had been admiring his.

"Do you intend to gawk for the remainder of the afternoon, Miss Fey, or do you need something?" He grunted.

Eryn flushed, then figured since she was working on her honesty, she might as well start now. "What? Can't I admire someone's hard work?" Ok, so maybe it wasn't the entire truth. She would die before admitting she was fancying his forearms. "Where are Fili and Kili?" She asked, changing the subject.

Thorin looked up, wiping the sweat from his brow, then leaned on his tool skeptically. "They said they were going to find you," He sighed, rolling and stretching his neck, as he did so he looked upwards, his look of weariness turned into one of dissatisfaction and Eryn followed his eyes upwards.

She heard a great shout and hay went flying. Somehow Fili and Kili had found their way up into the rafters and jumped into the enormous pile of hay. Eryn shielded her eyes from the debris and dirt while spitting out the bits that made it into her mouth. Fili and Kili both laughed, and Eryn laughed along with them

"You will clean this up, yes?" Eryn raised her eyebrows at the two troublemakers. They both looked at her, mouth gaping at mock astonishment.

"Why, Miss Fey, we think you've been spending too much time with our Uncle." Fili chortled.

"Yeah, why don't you try next?" Kili tempted, but Eryn had her eyes on the task at hand, and no longer on muscular arms.

"Ok, first off, Ouch. Second, I don't spend nearly enough time with your Uncle to warrant that jab. Lastly, if this was our home, I wouldn't care, but since it is our generous hosts, I think we should try to leave things better than when we arrived." She said, handing them each a broom.

"She's right," Thorin added in the most 'listen to your mother' tone Eryn had ever heard and returned to shoveling.

"Will you stay with us in Erebor, Eryn?" Kili asked as he began sweeping, "I liked the sound of 'our home,' and I didn't know if you intended to stay with us for a while; once we retake Erebor, that is."

Thorin stopped shoveling again and looked intently at Eryn, everyone, in fact, stopped what they were doing and stared at her. They each wore a different look, and the sudden attention made Eryn's mind begin to muddle.

"Well, I mean, I don't really know," She mumbled, "My plan is to return home once we get to Mirkwood, but maybe I could revisit you all if I can figure more out about that door. Perhaps I could see you all again, one day." Eryn looked down at her shoes, tattered and worn, and she wasn't sure why she was so sad.

She bit the inside of her cheek, the faces in the barn mirrored her own, and she saw a strange sadness there that she did not expect, even Thorin's eyes were downcast and hidden from her. "I should go check on lunch," she finally said, breaking the mood of the room. They all nodded and returned to their respective tasks while Eryn returned to the kitchen.

Lunch was a much more modest affair, everyone was tired, but had delighted energy about them."Feels good to be working with my hands again," Bofur said, to which everyone gave a hearty agreement.

"These are tasks you forget you miss when you're walking all hours of the day," Dori said, taking a sip of his tea.

"Do you all work like this where you're from?" Eryn asked, spreading cream on her still steaming bread.

"Some, yes," Balin smiled weakly, "After we lost Erebor, some of us took refuge in the Blue Mountains. Some found a prosperous settlement there, while others chose to roam and work in the neighboring cities and lands."

"Blacksmiths, tinkerers, you name it, if it was respectable work, we took it," Dwalin informed her, then took a gulp of his meed.

"I don't know why, but I imagined most of you doing this all of the time, questing that is, I didn't realize that this isn't normal life for you." Eryn propped her head upon her arm, "I'm sure it is normal, to some extent, but I didn't realize some of you had established yourselves."

"Established is a generous word, it's hardly a life when it's not where you belong, not where you want to be." Thorin huffed, tossing his bread onto his plate, Eryn nodded, feeling sorry she brought it up.

"Blast, Bombur, that was the last of the butter!" Bofur shouted and a few dwarves laughed in response. Bombur greedily slid the butter over his bread, looking Bofur dead in the eye while he did it.

"Looks like we're going to need more…" Bilbo mumbled, disappointed he put back the bread he had just picked up.

"That's alright, we'll just make more. I believe I saw a butter churn in the cellar." Eryn said, rising from the table. "Which one of you lads want to help me make butter?"

They all remained silent, looking at each other to avoid Eryn's eye. "Alright, how about this, who eats the most butter? Bombur excluded because he's an obvious answer." She crossed her arms and looked the table up and down, her eyes landing on Bofur, as was everyone else's. "Bofur it is, let's hope your hands work as well as your mouth." She grinned and patted him on the shoulder.

"What happened to the sweet, mousy Eryn Fey we met in Rivendell? This one is so pointed," Bofur whined, "And bossy." Eryn shook her head, laughing.

"The mousy Eryn is still here; she's just overshadowed currently by a woman who loves farm management, and butter." She grinned.

"Never knew you enjoyed this work so much," Fili observed.

Eryn looked downward at her shoes, "I do. It is something I spent a lot of time doing with my Grandparents, up until fairly recently."

"Well, what happened? What made you stop?" Bilbo inquired, turning in his seat to look at her.

Eryn took a deep breath; this was going to be her first honesty exercise. "Well, my grandfather retired, and he sold the land to my cousin, but he did that while I was away in Vermont, so I never got to say a proper farewell." Eryn somberly replied.

"That's a shame," Balin pursed his lips and sighed, "What were you away for? If it was so important to you…" He pondered aloud.

Eryn tried to make the words come out, she opened her mouth and closed it again two or three times before she realized she had been stunned. She didn't know how to explain it without unloading a giant story on them, and she wasn't sure how to approach that, "Just... personal matters," She settled and sighed, she'd failed miserably.

Others sighed as well, and murmured amongst themselves for a moment, before Eryn spoke again, "Bilbo, I'll see what tools Beorn has to make butter, will you boil them for me?"

"Sure," Bilbo simply replied, looking the table up and down a couple times.

Eryn locked eyes with Thorin, his stare was firm, and he was spinning a berry in his fingers absentmindedly. She retreated into the kitchen, mentally kicking herself as we went.

After Eryn set out the tools for Bilbo to boil, she needed a moment to contemplate what she wanted to say to them. What could she say, she could have unloaded the whole thing on them there, but what would they think of her? How would they see her if they knew the truth? Supposed it didn't matter, they would be in Mirkwood in a couple of weeks and she would be gone, what did she have to lose besides a few weeks of friendly travel? She's lived with far worse.

Eryn found herself in the stables, they seemed to be done in there for the time being, and the smell of the barn was oddly relaxing to her. Sure, it was foul to some extent, but there was something nostalgic that set her mind at ease. Eryn leaned on one of the open barn windows, watching the horses trot by, and the cattle chew their cud, living a seemingly pleasant life. Eryn envied their simple existence. Her pondering was disrupted when she heard footprints approaching, followed by a knock on the barn door.

"An odd place to retreat to," Thorin announced at the door.

"I like the smell of horses and cattle, is that strange?" Eryn sighed, a breeze blew through the open window, throwing the smells of the field and freshly turned the soil into the air.

"Aye, the smell of cattle and the companionship of a rodent. You are a strange one." He approached and looked at her expectantly.

"They're just cattle, and Pip is just a field mouse, hardly a spectacle," she muttered.

"Yet, it is a field mouse who knows more of your secrets than your companions, I'd call that strange." He muttered, and Eryn turned to look him in the eye.

"And what do you mean by that?" She groaned.

"A mouse and a man, whom we've only known since last night, knows more about you than the people you've traveled with for weeks. Why didn't we know of your marks before?" Thorin's voice rose with each word, and Eryn was surprised by this sudden change in tone, as well as his outrageous statement.

"Why?" She scoffed, and her voice grew as well, "Because they're scars! Do you parade yours around for the world to gawk at?" Eryn waved her hands in front of him, and Thorin caught her by the wrist. He looked at her arm now, twisting her hand to see the extent of the markings.

"Did you… harm yourself." He asked darkly, and Eryn's jaw clenched.

"Let go of my hand."

"Did you?" He asked, his voice velvety smooth, but with a sting of pity that went down as harsh as hard liquor. "The trials of your world too great to handle?"

"I am not a coward." She hissed, tears welling in her eyes.

"Then, what are you?" He shouted, and Eryn broke.

"Hurt!" She finally yelled, "By someone who swore they loved me, are you satisfied?!" She ripped her hand away, eyes wide and glassy. Eryn willed herself to not cry, but a tear rolled down her cheek defiantly.

Thorin stood there in stunned silence, his eyes narrowed, Eryn couldn't tell if they held pain or rage.

"Now, do you see why that had nothing to do with you? Any of you!" She shouted, her chest heaving, "I told you a little about it once before, but it has nothing to add or subtract from our company."

"But it does," Thorin's voice was softer, but firm, "We're Dwarves, Eryn, suspicious and loyal to the bone. We want to know who we travel with, who we share our camp with. For us, it's like inviting a stranger to live with us, to know our most intimate secrets," He ran his hand over his face.

"You ask, and you ask, yet you give nothing in return. You know more about them then they do about you, and that scares them. It scares me. We have no idea who you are and only have the good word of a Wizard. Try to see things from my perspective." Thorin leaned against the window, strands of his raven salt and pepper hair blew softly in the wind.

"It does not matter where you come from or what story you have to tell, as long as you are honest. I'm sorry that I learned of your misfortune this way. You spoke of a circumstance once before, but you spoke little of it, I did not know they were related," He let out a heavy sigh. "We know nothing about you, Eryn Fey, only that you're the woman who came to us through a door in the wall." Thorin ascertained, his eyes bore into hers.

Eryn watched him for a moment, pondering his words, she thought of many things to say in response, but respected Thorin far too much to give him any of her excuses.

"I have no excuses, but I am trying to be honest." Eryn wrapped her arms around her waist, "It's because I don't know who I am anymore," her voice dropped so low it was barely a whisper. "I thought I knew, but I was fine living my life pretending like everything was fine, and then this happened. I've found more of myself in these past few days than I have in years, and I've found that I'm a miserable person, so please forgive me for not having anything to want to give you." She sighed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. "Gandalf was right…" she mumbled, drawing Thorin's eyes, and Eryn knew from his look what he was asking.

"We spoke yesterday, he told me the same thing, just with fewer words, and a lot less yelling," Eryn chuckled under her breath, "I realized that I can't expect trust if I'm afraid to give it. I know now that I do trust you, you have been so very kind to me, so I want to extend that trust to you, even if I don't receive it in return." She looked to Thorin, his stare was held somewhere off in the distance, watching the horses bound through the field, and he sighed. "I wanted to tell you all soon, I just had to figure out how-"

"Eryn!" Kili yelled as he turned the corner into the barn, his brother hot on his heels, "There you are. We heard shouting and wanted to make sure you were well."

"We're long past the yelling, but yes, I'm fine," She responded. "We were just sorting some things out..."

"We tried to come sooner, but Dwalin said to let Thorin handle it," Fili looked to his Uncle now, who was obviously put out by the disruption.

"Miss Fey is fine," Thorin assured, stepping closer to Kili, and placing a hand on his shoulder. "We were simply discussing our misunderstandings as of late."

Eryn looked between the two and shifted uncomfortably, Kili's eyes bore into Thorins, his mouth set into a hard line, they looked like a mirrored image.

"We can continue our conversation after dinner, I need to help Bofur make butter anyway," Eryn said, heading for the door, she intended to finish what she started.

"Will we? Or will your sudden bravery fade?" Thorin challenged, and Eryn couldn't blame him.

"After these past few days, you are hardly an adversary." She smiled, "I've looked scarier things in the eye, and besides, I trust you." She then turned and returned to the kitchen.

Bofur was waiting for her in the kitchen as requested, and Eryn put him to work. They took the milk they had brought in that morning and skimmed it. Though it hadn't all separated, if they wanted butter for dinner, it would have to do.

They took turns at the butter churn, which looked like a water weal inside of a small keg. It took them more than an hour, but by the time they finished, they had enough for supper and breakfast the next morning. They strained and cleaned it, washing it thoroughly. Then they patted it and salted it, Eryn had a grand idea of adding some herbs from the garden, which Bilbo delighted in.

Bofur wasn't as talkative as he usually was, and this concerned Eryn. After her and Thorin's conversation, she felt she had little right to ask him what was on his mind, but she did anyway.

"Something on your mind, Bofur?" She asked as they kneaded the butter.

"Aye, just thinkin'," He mumbled.

"Dangerous business," She teased and bumped him with her elbow. "What about?"

"We've traveled together for a while now," he started, and Eryn was sure she knew where he was going. "I just wish that you'd think more highly of us," He admitted. Eryn stopped, and looked at him, he never took his eyes off his task, and they were heavy.

. "I think incredibly highly of you." Eryn paused, her brow heavy with concern

"Then why do you keep running away?" He turned to look at her now, and Eryn couldn't handle to look in his eye.

"Because I overthink and try to carry the burden alone, instead of sharing the load with my companions." She scoffed at herself.

"This place seems good for you," He observed, returning to his paddling, "We had hoped that your improved spirits meant you were warming up to us, but after lunch…"

"Bofur, it has nothing to do with warming up to you. I'm just selfish and fickle, and I'm sorry. I love you all so much." Her face pricked from the heat of embarrassment. "I cared more about preserving my pride instead of being apart of the journey, and I'm the one who's missing out. So, if anybody should have reason to think less of anyone, it would be you all, and I couldn't blame you. I think less of myself for every day that I've acted like this." She hung her head in shame.

Bofur placed a hand over hers and gave it a gentle squeeze, "Miss Eryn, we couldn't think less of you, the real danger is not knowing you at all."

"You're right, so, shall we start over?" She smiled at him, taking his hand in return. "I'm Eryn Fey, it's nice to meet you."

"Bofur, at your service." He took his hat off and bowed, causing a broad smile to break across Eryn's face.

"We would like to introduce ourselves as well," Bombur said, walking into the kitchen, followed by Balin, Dori, and Bilbo.

They each took a turn introducing themselves again, and Eryn reveled in the newness of her friendships. "I haven't had friends in a long time," Eryn mused, and they all continued their kitchen tasks.

"And why is that?" Bilbo asked, sorting the fresh produce from that morning.

"Because I never knew how to keep them," Eryn chided herself and returned to work, "I lost a lot of them when I moved to Vermont."

"Surely this, Vermont, can't be that offensive." Balin chimed in, as he sipped on a cup of tea.

"It wasn't Vermont's fault," Eryn laughed, "It was mine, I moved there despite the wise counsel of my friends. They didn't like the man I was with, he convinced me to move there and what few friends I had said they couldn't watch me ruin my life. So, they stopped talking to me, not that I blame them…" Eryn sighed, both from frustration and the peace of speaking her mind freely.

"Why? Surely you weren't that disagreeable." Bilbo pursed his lips.

"I wasn't, but Ian was…" She finally said, shifting uncomfortably.

Bofur saw the discomfort on her face and looked at Balin, he noticed too and put his tea down. "Who's Ian?" Bofur asked.

"He was my Fiancé," Eryn answered shortly and placed her finished block of herb butter on a plate. "I don't really talk about him, that's why I avoided your question when we first met about having a spouse. I don't have a spouse, but I almost did, and he was…" Eryn paused, trying to think of an appropriate word, other than the many crude words she wanted to use to describe him. "Awful." She settled on.

"I see," Balin said, pressing his lips into a firm line, "No wonder you don't want to speak of him. I understand now."

"Thank you," Eryn said, "I'm grateful that you understand, I told Thorin I would speak to him about it this evening, and I'm afraid he won't." She admitted.

"Thorin will understand," Balin defended, "He may seem, unattached and unkind, but he cares about far more than he lets on."

"He doesn't seem unkind, he's just so focused, and I'm afraid that he won't accept my simple story as true." She hadn't realized that was a core fear until she'd voiced it aloud.

"Thorin is many things, Miss Fey, and sometimes he can be unreasonable, but he will hear you out. He's just passionate, and when he sees a disservice, especially to his kin, he will stop at nothing until that wrong is right." Balin explained, and Eryn nodded with understanding.

"A strength out of balance is a weakness…" Eryn mumbled, catching Balin's attention.

"How's that lass?"

"I just, I see Thorin's passion, and it truly is one of his greatest strengths, but when it's out of balance, he can be harsh and intense. Zealous. It's something that I understand better, now that I see his passion." Eryn said as she readied the plates for supper, and she understood his confrontation in the barn a bit better now. He was trying to firmly get the truth from her because she had hurt his family.

"Is supper about done?" Thorin asked, suddenly standing in the doorway, causing Eryn to jump.

"Just about," Bombur announced, scurrying about the kitchen.

Supper was served shortly after, and Eryn took her place seated by the kitchen crew. The table was in good spirits, and there was plenty of conversation that evening.

They laughed and enjoyed friendly conversation; Eryn couldn't have asked for a more delightful dinner. She told them about the things she did at her Grandfather's farm in Michigan, about the early mornings walking the fence, to their late evenings roasting sausages over the fire for supper. She reveled in the new place she'd found with her companions, and she felt a sudden sadness over not meeting with them here sooner.

"Why the long face?" Bofur asked.

"I just hate myself for waiting until nearly the end of our adventure to speak with you all like this." She sighed.

"It's not the end," Bilbo countered with concern.

"We're headed to Mirkwood once Beorn returns, and I'm hopefully headed back home once we get there…" She remarked.

"Well, we have until then to enjoy each other's company!" Bofur said, raising his glass to her.

She smiled and met his glass, "You're infectiously joyful, Bofur."

"Nah, it's just the ale." He winked and downed the rest of his glass.

Dinner finished, and the knot in Eryn's stomach grew with anticipation. She would have to speak with Thorin later that evening, and she wasn't looking forward to it. She grabbed a cup of mead just on principle to settle her nerves.

Eryn's stomach churned like the butter they made all evening. She enjoyed the songs and the lively conversation, but she kept coming back to the churning in her stomach. She even tried a bit of Kili's pipe tobacco to distract her, he laughed hysterically when she almost vomited from accidentally inhaling the smoke. Eryn didn't enjoy it as much, but at least her stomach was sour now for other reasons.

When everyone was in bed, Eryn decided to grab a blanket and head to the kitchen. She wasn't sure why she wanted to wait, but she did want to talk to Thorin in private, he was more forthcoming with her when they spoke alone.

When she entered, there Thorin sat, smoking his pipe and drinking from a tankard, just as she had found him the night before. He didn't look up at her as she sat down across from him, and he silently handed her a tankard, filled with the sour liquid she'd grown to tolerate.

"Thank you, that was very thoughtful of you," Eryn admired as she wrapped the blanket tighter around herself.

"I thought you decided not to speak with me after all," He finally looked at her, and her breath hitched at his intent stare.

"I just wanted to wait, gather myself. If I was going to speak with you, I wanted to be prepared," Eryn answered.

"You seemed in brighter spirits at dinner." He observed, sparing her a glance.

Eryn looked at him, intrigue crossed her eye, "I was enjoying dinner with my new friends,"

"New?" He looked at her, confused, "You've known them for weeks now, I thought you were already in good company."

"I have, but I took your advice, and you were right; they take very kindly to honesty." She took a drink of her mead, scrunching her nose, it seemed far more sour tonight than the last time she tried it. "So, shall we begin?" Eryn sighed, placing both of her hands folded on the table.

"We shall," Thorin said, sitting straighter now.

"I've never told anyone the full story before, so, prepare yourself for something dreadful." Eryn shrugged.

"Not even your family? Your Grandfather?" Thorin asked, taken aback.

"No, well, they know something was wrong, but not the full extent of it…" Her eyes began to prick at the anticipation and frustration growing in her mind.

"If you cannot-"He began, but Eryn cut him off.

"Oh no, you aren't going to give me a way out of this, just because crying women make you uncomfortable, not after the conversation we had today…" She teased, picking up her cup and taking a long drink. "I can do it if you'll allow me." She asked, looking up at him from under her brow.

"Very well," Thorin grunted, he faced her, giving her his full attention.

***********************************************************************************************************

"Three years ago," Eryn began, her voice faltered, and her knees began to shake "I met someone, he and I dated, or courted I should say. He was handsome and sweet, we had so much in common, he made me laugh, he made me sing, I loved him. At first, it started out as him being 'protective' he would get jealous when I spent too much time with my friends or family, I wrote it off as 'he just missed me' or 'he had a bad day.' Then it developed to him getting angry when I didn't call or let him know what I was doing every second of my day. My friends and family told me to be careful, and that he was trouble, but for some reason, I thought it was fine. I kept telling myself that it was normal." Eryn stopped to take a deep breath, trying to calm her shaking hands and knees.

"After a while, he wanted me to move with him, far away from my family and friends, and me being the idiot that I am, thought it was a great idea. So, I packed up my things after a year of dating and moved to Vermont; it ruined my relationship with my parents, my father still won't talk to me. I don't really blame him." Eryn sighed, tears welling up in her eyes. "When we got to Vermont, he insisted that we shared a home, but I didn't want to. I wanted to save that for when I got married, call me old fashioned-" Eryn shrugged sourly- "That was the first time he hit me. He told me that it was my fault, and it wouldn't have happened if I just gave us the life we wanted. So, I ran away. I called my Grandfather, and he told me to be brave. He didn't know what was going on entirely, but his words helped me pick myself up that day." Eryn spared a glace towards Thorin and she saw that his fists were white. She thought that perhaps she should stop, but she couldn't turn back now, the truth came spilling out.

"I went back to tell Ian I was leaving, but when I got back, he apologized. He said he would be better and that he would never hurt me again. The next day I came home from work to a trail of rose petals and a proposal. Do you know what I said? I said, yes. Why? I honestly have no idea. I was miserable." Eryn's voice grew angrier now, and her hands balled into fists.

"He constantly humiliated me, I cooked, cleaned, and did everything he asked. I wasn't allowed to make friends, and I was only allowed to leave when he did. He got mad at me when I called my family, which was mostly just my Grandfather; neither of my parents wanted to speak with me. I snuck out of the house sometimes and would go to the forest just to be alone."

"A few months after we announced our engagement, my Grandfather called and told me that my Grandmother had passed away and that her funeral was going to be that weekend. It was that same week he was diagnosed with cancer. So, I packed my things and told my fiancé I'd be leaving for the funeral the next day and explained to him that I might have to stay longer since my Grandfather was sick. You know what he told me?" Eryn swallowed thickly, "He said, I wasn't going anywhere." Her jaw clenched, and her shoulders shook.

"He had a knife in his hand" Eryn stammered and took another drink, "He threatened to kill me, and I ran. He- he cut me." Eryn absentmindedly traced the white puckered skin on her arm. "I ran to the bathroom and hid. He pounded on the door, yelling at me to come out, but I knew that if I opened the door, I would die. So, I climbed through the bathroom window and ran to the nearest Urgent Care. I told them I fell through a glass table…" Eryn scoffed and looked back up at Thorin, who wore a mask, she couldn't tell what he was thinking.

*****************************************************************

"That's when I knew that I had to get out of there. For good." Eryn took a deep breath, trying to settle her nerves.

"The following day, I packed what I could while he was at work and tried to leave. That was when I realized that he removed the spark plug from my car. Little did that idiot know, I knew how to replace a spark plug. It took me an hour to walk to the store and get a replacement, but it was worth the work." Thorin looked at her, obviously lost at this part of the story. "Anyway, I left my engagement ring on the table and haven't looked back since. I made it to my Grandfather's house and never left. Best decision I ever made."

They sat in silence for a long while, the only sound was the crackle of the fire and the soft settling of the house. Worry began to settle in her mind, so she continued.

"When I made it to my grandfathers, I spent the past year in this fog, it's like I've been asleep the whole time. Waking, barely living, and fussing over his health, ignoring my own. I spent that time condemning myself for the life I chose, wallowing in self-pity. I'm ashamed." She looked at the fire, its heat radiated off the hearth, and she let herself cry, only for a moment.

"All of that to say, this company, the Goblin cave, and Azog, has been an absolute mess. But If anything, it woke me up, I think. It reminded me that I'm alive, and I can continue to be so if I stop throwing myself a pity party and keep moving forward." She finished with a sigh and hoped that she explained herself well enough, Eryn was never a warrior poet with words.

Thorin's silence worried her, but she remained silent, allowing him time to think and process her words if he needed it. When he finally spoke, it was a far softer voice than she expected. "Why did you choose to tell me your story and not my nephews or anyone else?"

Eryn pondered this for a while, why did she want to tell him all of this? Did she seek some approval? Was she looking for pity? Eryn shook her head, "Well, because you're the one I'd answer to eventually," she let out a pitiful laugh, he narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, as he always did, but the humor was not lost on him. "It's because we're friends, and I hope that as time goes on, you can trust me to carry your burdens too." She smiled up at him.

"How do you smile after telling such a sickening tale?" He muttered into his cup.

"Well, it's a skill I've just now learned, so I'm still figuring it out myself, but I think it's because there's still joy, even in the hardships and joy isn't circumstantial. I have a lot to be thankful for."

He pondered her words for a moment, staring into the fire once more, and Eryn caught herself admiring him again, his brow looked far less troubled now that they had spoken. The light reflected off his ocean eyes, and Eryn wondered desperately what he was thinking. He leaned back on the bench, puffing on his pipe, the conversation long hung in the air.

"Do you think poorly of me now?" Eryn finally asked.

"No, in fact, I admire you," He breathed, taking Eryn by surprise.

"Why?" she scoffed.

"It is courageous to have been betrayed like that, and still walk the same earth as your betrayer. If you were my sister or family, I would have killed this man where he stood."

"Well, it's a good thing I'm not your sister…" Eryn laughed.

"It is indeed…" he muttered, "I also admire your ability to still see the world as you do, given your history, anyone I know would have died with bitterness."

Eryn was surprised by his praise, she hardly felt worthy of it, but thanked him none the less.

"I'm sorry I drew out your anger today, and you did not deserve mine." He looked downward now, and this surprised her more than praise.

"Wow, an apology and praise in one day, I'm a lucky girl." She teased.

"The moon shines, perhaps it shines in your good favor."

"Hardly," Eryn chuckled, "It's alright, I understand. You were looking out for your family. Your passion is one of your greatest strengths after all."

Thorin was silent once again, and Eryn went back to studying his face. She couldn't for the life of her remember how old he was, he didn't look old, but considering how dwarves aged, she thought she would ask, maybe it would lighten the mood. "How old are you?"

"One hundred and ninety-five," He replied, shifting his attention to her, "What does it matter?"

"I'm just curious, you don't look a day over forty. In fact, I was just admiring your youthful glow." She winked, taking a sip of her mead.

"That is foolish, if I was forty-five, I would be a child." he scoffed.

"I'm only Twenty-six," Eryn laughed, "What does that make me in dwarf years?"

"Still only Twenty-six," he whispered, raising his eyebrows, a smile curled at the corner of his mouth.

"That's not impressive?" She smiled up at him,

"You're practically an infant," He scoffed.

"Pretty darn remarkable for an infant," She boasted, pursing her lips at him and tossed her hair over her shoulder in good humor

"Most remarkable indeed..." He finished on a more serious note than Eryn was expecting. He then stood, finished the last of his mead, and bid her goodnight.

Eryn watched him leave this time, she noticed him fidget his fingers as he left, that was new for him, Eryn thought; she'd never seen him so distracted for no reason. Whatever the reason was, Eryn didn't ponder it long and went to sleep that night grateful as she enjoyed her first weightless night sleep in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, for obvious reasons this chapter was very difficult to write. I tried to handle it with grace, but please let me know what you thought, as always I welcome constructive criticism.  
> Thank you, and I hope you all had a wonderful holiday with your families.
> 
> -B


	16. A New Point of View

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, sorry I'm a little later than usual, I wanted to take a week off to reset my brain, I've been playing Pokemon on the switch and reading for pleasure. Sometimes you just need to relax and refocus.

The morning dawned just as it had done many other days, but Thorin found himself quite put out on this particular morning, for what reason he did not know. The woman was insufferably happy this morning, even more so than the last, and Thorin thought that she couldn't be happier than bossing them around like the captain of a highly questionable army. But this morning proved him wrong.

Her countenance was of pure unadulterated joy, and her eyes shone in ways he'd never seen before. She was delighted, to say the least, talking to the mischievous bunch at the end of the table. He wasn't sure what had changed between Balin, Bombur, Bofur, the Hobbit, and herself, but they had a new trust bound between them. It concerned him, to say the least. He thought his nephews, who were seated beside her, were in danger of ensnarement, Bofur looked positively smitten. Their conversation about his nephews settled his nerves. She insisted that she had no intention romantically towards them, and that brought him some peace.

His nephews had spoken again about her residing in Erebor once they reclaimed it, and he grew frustrated at their constant interrogation. She looked conflicted by their inquiring as well; that was the only time her eyes dimmed. He wondered if she wanted to stay. What, if anything, could keep her here? Eryn had nothing to her name, no family here to speak of, and she was an outsider who was beyond the understanding of their way of life. He supposed she could be taught, given she wanted to be. But Thorin didn't think she'd want to stay anyway. He could not think of a reason why or how she could stay, not that he wished that anyway! Which is what he had to keep reminding himself every time his mind drew back to the subject. She was a hindrance, and a problem from the start, their newfound comradery was not to distract him from that.

They all were in a fit of laughter now, he gritted his teeth and took another gulp of his ale. Thorin set his mug down gruffly, drawing the unwanted attention of Dwalin, who sat beside him.

"What’s bothering ya?" his oldest friend asked, leaning in as if inquiring upon some grand secret.

“This' the morning, who howls like that at this hour?” He grumbled as he took another bite of his bread, then washed it down with ale.

"Aye, and who drinks this early?" Dwalin challenged, causing Thorin to look at him, his eyes did not hint at a humorous mood. Dwalin flinched backward as if he had stared a venomous snake in the eyes, "Er, it's nearly eight; that's plenty time for drinking." He quickly lifted his own cup, containing the dark liquid that made the woman squeal with delight and took a sip.

Another loud burst of laughter erupted from the end of the table, and Thorin groaned.

It had only been yesterday morning that a few sitting at the end of the table with her were inquiring about her remaining among them, especially after lunch yesterday. Once she had left abruptly after someone asked about her, some of the company questioned if Eryn should remain in their company at all; or if they should make her find her own way to Mirkwood. A few, mostly his nephews, and The Hobbit, spoke in her favor. The majority did not want her remaining much longer if she was to continue her secrecy. Thorin did agree until he had to be a diplomatic voice. He wasn't proud of the way he handled her, she was just a woman after all, but their confrontation had to happen. She had proven herself of a sound mind and loyal in most circumstances, but this topic, in particular, proved most stubborn. Thorin admired that until it proved to be more than his company could live with.

Her secrets were her own, he agreed, but she let on like it was a grand conspiracy. A few of his companions demanded they get answers and were intending to follow after her and insisted she speak at the risk of her contract. They were so close to their destination, it was almost a worthless fight, but once his nephews brought up her staying, Thorin knew he couldn’t have chaos in his company.

He offered to speak with her first, as she had entrusted him with a secret before, not that he told them that though. He simply wanted to give her an audience of one, instead of an angry group of dwarves. The company was more than grateful for his offer, mostly because they were all cowards when it came to women, including those married, excluding Bofur, the shameless flirt.

His methods were something he was not proud of, but the options were to pressure her to speak or ask her to remain with Beorn until she could find a new way to reach Mirkwood. He wanted to give her the chance to stay with them, for his nephew's sake, they would never forgive him.

He was not expecting her recoil, the ferocity in which she snapped was surprising to him. It reminded him of the wrath he would provoke from his sister when they were younger. He would tease and prod at her, mostly about suitors before she married Fili and Kili’s father, and she bore it with grace for a moment, but the moment she reached her limit, it was the end of all humor. Her bite was worse than any warg.

Erin's face was something he would never forget as long as he lived. The vehement burning in her eyes was different from the irritation of a sister, it was a woman scorned. The bitterness and the venom in her words still punched him in the gut every time he conjured up the memory in his mind. He didn’t mean to insult her by asking if she had harmed herself, but he had to start somewhere.

Thorin had never met a person who displayed so much of their heart but kept so many secrets, it was almost like she had two; one to love and the other to keep bitterness in check. He didn't have to ask what the second heart held, he knew very well now the weighted sorrow of Eryn Fey, and he would have been fine with her simple explanation in the barn. She was hurt. He would have taken that as a sufficient answer, but her following words piqued his curiosity, ‘hurt by someone who swore they loved her.’

He had to know, not to gossip, like the sour maids in Erebor, but as a friend. He had to know what hurt her, could he do anything? Possibly not, but if he ever found the person responsible, he would unleash the same upon him tenfold, and he knew a few others who would wish to take their turn. This was only by the notion that he had only hurt her arms, once he discovered the depths of this man's depravity, he wanted death; even that sounded far too generous.

Thorin took another sip of his ale, it now tasted bitter in his mouth, and he no longer had an appetite. So, he pushed his plate away and rose from the table. In response to his retreat, many others finished their conversations and finished their meal as well.

They scurried to clean up after breakfast, and not a few minutes later, they had nearly cleared the table. Eryn, however, sat pouting because she had to quickly finish her bean juice, the one she and Dwalin were so fond of. Thorin himself was never fond of coffee, but then again, he hadn’t given it a proper chance.

She glanced up at him, taking her eyes off of the cup in her hand, and honored him with a smile.

Eryn had a crooked smile and the most curious hair he'd ever seen; it was wild, and the color confused him most. It was red like Gloin or Bombur’s hair at the end, but as dark as Kili’s at the root, it must be some otherworldly witchcraft. Her eyes were luminous, even for color as deep as hers; they were almost like deep luxurious amber jewels in a dark metal setting. He found her to be quite agreeable and charming in her unique appearance.

He caught himself before he looked for too long; she tended to start speaking to him if he looked for too long. So he nodded stiffly and turned.

He had to inform the concerned party of their conversation yesterday. He did not know if they would accept Eryn's explanation, but if he found it suffice, then they might agree as well, and he didn't want her to be aware of their intentions until they had decided. He considered having his nephews distract her, they could blind her from anything, curse their insufferable charm. It had got them into trouble in the past, and he did not want any trouble now. He was at a loss for how to dispatch her without her knowing. Perhaps he wouldn't need to. They all bathed separate and would be doing so today, no tact required. That settled it, once Miss Fey left to wash, they would discuss, Mahal knows any woman needs three-quarters of an hour, at least, to bathe.

With that, he was reminded of his sister, Dis, a true jewel of Erebor. Her hygiene habits, though, were unparalleled. She took an hour and a half to wash and pamper, her beard was a fearful thing to behold because of it.

His thoughts were disrupted by Eryn's announcement, they would be trading jobs this morning, the kitchen group excluded. Those who worked the livestock yesterday would tend fields today. He didn't care much for vegetables, but he was not going to tell Eryn no. Work was work, and he was an honorable dwarf. Thorin enjoyed the fruit of labor as much as any man, he was not a farmer, but most of all, he was not one to turn down good work.

So, Thorin spent his morning pulling potatoes, then the carrots, and then he sewed new seed in small troughs Eryn had Bofur and Bifur build for new seedlings. They mixed the foul manure with freshly turned soil and put that in the boxes, newly watered and placed aside.

Thorin was surprised by her knowledge in this field, he had no idea a woman such as herself would even be interested in such things. Bilbo mentioned she had higher learning of plants, but this kind of work only comes from familiarity with the craft; Eryn had learned her art well. She obviously had done this before, she spoke of her familiarity with it at dinner, but he didn't expect her to be utterly possessed by it. The amount of thought she put into managing the tasks came as natural to her as Thorin planned for war; it was a fearsome thing to behold. Every little thing had its order, from the very beginning of their morning, she expected each of her companions to fulfill their duties decently and orderly. He oddly admired it.

She arrived soon after they harvested to bring the freshly produced vegetables to the kitchen so they could prepare lunch, Kili aided her with their transportation. They returned a few moments later with water for everyone to drink. She then headed to the barn with another bucket in hand, singing a song Thorin was not familiar with. He was not familiar with any of the songs she sang, some sounded like ballads while others were most preposterous; he scarcely understood any of her words.

Though, Thorin would admit that there were quite a few things she did that were preposterous

When she spoke last night of plugs, and something called a car? What in Durin's name was that? The plug sparked, could it be a flint? Was Vermont her country? Thorin had so many questions he was sure Eryn couldn't or wouldn't answer for him. Perhaps if they had another opportunity to talk, he would inquire about these things, but they weren't necessary. He didn't have to speak to her at all if he didn't deem it necessary, why was he already looking for a new opportunity for conversation?

They rarely spoke, only recently had they begun a regular correspondence. When they did converse, it was pleasant, but Eryn always spouted such ridiculous things. Like how she insisted they sprouted from holes. No matter how many times he assured her that he was indeed worn of a dwarf woman, she still teased and joked; it was like a game to her.

His confliction was interrupted by shouting from the house, "Lunch!" Eryn yelled, and he planted his shovel firmly into the dirt.

Thorin wiped the sweat from his brow and sauntered through the door, once he opened it, the smell of freshly baked bread assaulted his senses, and his stomach protested loudly. Thorin couldn't remember the last time he had eaten this well, even without meat, he had little complaint.

Lunch was identical to breakfast, he sat at the head of the table with Dwalin and watched the antics at the foot of the table. Eryn threw her head back and laughed, wiping the tears from her eyes, his nephews were also keeled over laughing; Bofur had fallen off the bench. Even Balin was rosy from laughter. Thorin gritted his teeth again. Why was he so disrupted by their merriment? It meant nothing to him if they delighted in each other's company, and it was no concern of his whether Eryn was making closer bonds with his kin. Why did this bother him so?

“Did you get anywhere?” Nori asked, leaning past Gloin so as not to be heard by many others.

“Get anywhere with what?” Thorin groaned, he hadn’t intended to be so ill-tempered today, but it was oozing out of his skin like a sickness.

"The woman, did you speak with her?" Nori pushed, and Thorin recalled their conversation the day before, he had promised to report to them any changes, but didn't; He hadn't had the chance. "You spoke last night, did you not?" he then paused and looked towards the commotion coming from the foot of the table, "Or did you get distracted?" Nori asked pointedly, and rage grew in Thorin's stomach.

"Remember who you speak to," Thorin seethed, his eyes shot daggers into Nori's, but Nori was as cold as stone.

“I do recall you saying you would speak with her, I simply ask what became of your conversation.” He parried, and Thorin heaved a heavy sigh.

“The woman and I spoke,” He leaned back in his chair and looked down towards the woman in question.

“Well?” Dwalin hissed, he was torn between enjoying the woman's company and being a naturally distrusting person. Dwalin wanted to give her a chance to explain herself as much as his nephews. “Is she to stay?”

“We will discuss when we have privacy,” Thorin threw his feet up on the arm of the chair and took a long drink from his glass. “I do not want to repeat myself, so we will wait.”

"Very well," Nori muttered, leaning back, he pursed his lips, skeptical.

Dwalin looked intently into his glass, multiple questions weighed heavy on his shoulders, and Thorin wanted to ease his nerves. Still, he had to hold himself to the accountability of his position. He expected order, he would give no exception to his rule, even if Dwalin was Thorin's oldest friend. Besides, there was no hurry; it could wait until after lunch.

“Alright, I’d say we’ve done enough for the day.” Eryn sighed and stretched her arms above her head. “Your laundry should be dried, but I’d say leave it until after you bathe,” She directed next and gathered a few cloths to towel off with from the strange hounds that roamed the house. "Do you guys want to go first? If you do, I'll take a nap," She gave a coy smile and organized the cloths on the cleared the table.

"No, lass, why don't you go. You've worked hard, you should go enjoy yourself." Balin smiled at her and gave a glance towards Thorin, who nodded in approval. Eryn had been working hard, she had dirt on her neck and face, her clothes were soiled with manure and what looked like bird feces. Thorin couldn't help but wonder what she had gotten into.

"Alright, if you're sure it's alright, I won't be long." She gathered her things and a cloth, then approached Nori with a playful smile, he handed her the bar of soap he kept hidden somewhere on his person. What he needed that for Thorin didn't know, Nori never bathed with soap. Perhaps it was for her. If it was, she had almost every single one of them in her favor, in one way or another.

Once they were sure she was gone, Thorin produced a pipe, and the company gathered around, Bilbo included. Thorin was surprised that the Hobbit hadn’t told Eryn of her potential trouble. Perhaps he was wise enough to wait until after Thorin had spoken with her.

“Well, Thorin, what say you?” Dwalin was first to speak, obviously eager.

"Yes, Uncle, what is going on?" Kili requested of his Uncle, and a multitude of other's gave a hearty request.

“Eryn and I spoke last evening, she told of her…” Thorin paused, trying to recapitulate the information he was told, “Misfortune.”

“Aye, her betrothed," Balin mumbled, pressing his lips together into a sour frown.

“You know if this? How?” Thorin inquired, she said she had told none but him the tale.

“So, some of ye do know?” Oin exclaimed, his brother grumbled in agreement.

“She told us yesterday before supper,” Bilbo defended, and Thorin shot him a heated glance.

"Now, to be clear, she only told us this Ian was her betrothed and that he was awful," Bofur interjected, causing a pause on confusion to settle among the group.

“She was betrothed?” Dwalin questioned, concern set deep into his eyes.

"Is she still? What's happened?" Fili asked next, and Thorin was through with questions. To say this had turned into chaos was an understatement, so he would have to gather everyone once again and explain the situation. It really should be Eryn who was telling them this, but he wanted to spare her a second explanation before the new moon rose.

“Enough!” Thorin roared, causing a calm to break over the group of disgruntled and confused dwarves. “Miss Fey trusted me with a heavy tale late last night, one I do not wish to relay in its entirety, but I will tell you all what you must know," Thorin assured, he wasn't sure he could stomach the entire tale, and there were things he did not feel comfortable sharing. Some things he was sure she told him in confidence.

So, Thorin told them the tale she told him last night. He gave them a general summary, leaving out a few personal details. He told them of this Ian's establishment of trust and love, then his sickening change in character. It made his blood boil to recant the story of her betrayal and manipulated abuse. The looks on his companion's faces turned from confusion to concern, then finally settling on disgust. They looked as though they had been told their home was lost again. Thorin was sure none of them had ever heard a tale like that in all their life.

“How,” Kili breathed, his eyes glassy and still set on a single point of the floor.

"How could someone do that to… anyone?" Bombur finished, but Thorin knew Kili's questions were far more personal.

"How could anyone do that to a woman?" Ori muttered, but this still was not the question in most minds.

“How could anyone do that to Eryn?” Fili said darkly, his eyes were no longer bright and youthful, he had heard something that changed his perspective forever.

“Do they not cherish women-folk in her world?” Ori asked, his eyes also hollow and dull.

“Many do not cherish women-folk, they are not as valued in the eyes of man, as they are in the eyes of a Dwarf," Dwalin grumbled and crossed his arms sharply.

"Value aside," Thorin interjected, "That was her well-kept secret, you can see now why she was so hesitant to speak of it. She said there aren't many who know of her misfortune." Thorin informed them, and they all looked downward in unison as if mourning. Nay, they were embarrassed. It showed, and Thorin felt it as well.

“We made her speak of something so personal,” Fili muttered, “She won’t want to speak to us again.”

"That's where you're wrong," Bilbo interjected, and everyone turned to face the Hobbit. "Eryn wanted to tell everyone, she just had to gather her courage. She said that she had been so focused on preserving her pride that she forgot to be a part of the journey.” Bilbo nodded, “I think that’s something we all can understand,” he took the time to look everyone in the eye, it was received with humble glances.

"Very well, then I still say she stays, secrets, or no," Fili said, who was quickly followed by Kili.

“As do I,” Dwalin announced. He was also echoed by his brother.

The vote was synonymous, and they all agreed that Eryn Fey would stay with them until Mirkwood. Thorin heaved a sigh of relief; this was too much of a spectacle than he was fond of. He enjoyed his theatrics on the stage, and not in his company. He was just glad to be done with it and moving towards a common goal, returning the problematic woman to her home.

When Eryn returned, they tried to greet her with the same delight as they had seen her off with, but they couldn't. Some scurried about and gathered their things, grumbling and groaning, trying to get out as soon as possible, and Thorin wished he hadn't told them anything at all. Eryn looked confused and concerned. She stopped his nephews at the door and inquired what was wrong. What they told her, Thorin couldn't hear, but by the look on her face, he guessed they told her of the events that unfolded while she bathed. Her eyes darted to find him, and his stomach clenched, her eyes were sharp and heated, he wondered if he misspoke. Thorin was sure he would find out once everyone left.

Eryn and his Nephews parted, but it looked well. Both of his nephews placed a hand on her shoulder, and she offered them a warm, parting smile and handed them the soap. Like they'd use it.

Once everyone left, she let out a heavy sigh and approached him. Thorin stood stationary, waiting for her attach.

"So," she began softly, and that surprised Thorin, he expected to fire, "You told them?" She sighed. Her eyes found their place on the floor that she usually rested upon. Though he noticed that she didn't do it as often as when they first met. she was growing bolder, and it showed in the small things she did absentmindedly.

“Aye, they needed to know,” he defended, and she remained silent, he wondered desperately what she was thinking. She never reacted how he expected. It amazed him that he knew every tick and fidget she did when she was irritated or uncomfortable, but he still couldn't read her eyes. They spoke so loudly at times, while at others, it was an inaudible whisper.

“That’s probably for the better,” Eryn admitted, “I just wish you didn’t have to do it.”

"Well, I assumed you wouldn't want to tell the same story twice before a new moon rose," Thorin explained, and she pursed her lips, then broke into a smile.

“How thoughtful of you,” she teased, bumping him with her elbow, “You’re spoiling me so much lately.”

Thorin felt the threatening prick of warmth start in his ears, and he praised Mahal for his hair. He then thought of impaling an Orc to distract himself from the betrayal of a flushed face. "I know not what you mean," He grunted in response.

"You've just been so kind to me lately, I want to make sure you know I appreciate it." She explained, and Thorin was taken aback. He hadn't shown her any exceeding amount of kindness. No more than he would show his own Nephews. “So, how much did you tell them?” She inquired, and Thorin was drawn back to the conversation at hand.

“I simply gave them the information they needed to know, I left out the personal details. Simply that you were betrothed, he convinced you to move away from your family, and he harmed you. That is all." She nodded appreciatively, "I especially left out the bit about plugs and car. I have no idea what that is." Thorin admitted, and Eryn laughed,

"That was probably a good idea, I couldn't explain that well." She shook her head with humor, "anyway, don't you want to catch up with the others?" She asked and nodded after his companions, who were long gone.

"Perhaps so, but answer me this," He crossed his arms and thought once again about her tale. He asked her last night how she smiled despite a sickening story, and she responded with joy, something he did not understand. Now he wondered how she remained seemingly free from this trouble. She didn't lash out in anger, she held relationships well, and she could still laugh and sing. Though she did admit that singing was something she had only recently begun again. "How are you the way that you are?"   
Thorin fumbled, that was not at all what he wanted to ask. "I mean to say, you have suffered a great misfortune how does this not sicken your taste for the world?"

Thorin couldn’t help but think of his own bitterness. He was the King in Exile. What did he have to rejoice in? His home was destroyed, and no aid was given by his neighbors; he had been betrayed. His father and his father's father killed. His sister widowed, and he was tasked with ruling a kingdom without walls. How could he harness this, forgiveness? He wasn’t sure what to call it. How could he harness this joy? Surely Eryn Fey hadn’t experienced the same amount of pain in her life, but it was pain none the less. Thorin was sure she had many other misfortunes in her life that she didn’t speak of.

Eryn simply smiled, "I don't know," She admitted, and Thorin's shoulders fell. He wasn't sure why he expected her to have the answer for him, but he was disappointed none the less. He has resolved to leave, but then she paused and pinched her chin between her thumb and forefinger. "But," she began again, recapturing his attention. "A great man once said, 'The world is indeed full of peril, and in it, there are many dark places. But there is still much that is fair. And though in all lands, love is mingled with grief, it still grows, perhaps, the greater.'" Eryn paused and looked at him now, her eyes warm and inviting.

Thorin only hummed in response, what wisdom indeed. He vowed to think about this and told Eryn his farewell.

As Thorin walked to the river, he thought well on what she had said. He disrobed, the others were wrestling and enjoying merriment, but his mind was occupied elsewhere.

There was darkness, it grew with each day, probably more than he knew. Gandalf spoke of the Necromancer and darkness beyond their powers. His mind was brought closer to home, his home. Erebor. It was destroyed, and his home was reduced to ashes. Smaug truly decimated everything he knew and loved. The Elves, they turned their backs only seconds after laying their eyes on the need of his people. The city of men, fat and foolish with their hay and stone house. They all burned just as his people did.

Azog defiled the very ground he walked upon, it curdled Thorin’s stomach to think he walked upon the same earth as that creature.

His Grandfather, Thorin, discovered that he envied Eryn’s friendship with her Grandfather. She spoke of him as if he were a king, she loved him, and he loved her; Thorin knew this without even knowing the man. She was so easy to admire. He envied her. His Grandfather was consumed by greed and spite. He was suspicious of everything in his final days, even his own kin. How could a man who loved his people let them be destroyed with one great breath of fire?

His own father suffered this as well, this greed, this sickness. He shuddered at the thought. Could he succumb to this as well? Would he yield to this weakness, this crippling fear of losing a possession? He had nothing to his name. Nothing except a sword on his hip, a key in his coat, and the blood in his veins. His birthright. His demise. Would the blood in his veins turn him against his own people like his father and his fathers' father? He was Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, the King under the mountain, and that title came with a great weight.

The truth was that Thorin was grieved. He swore to never rest until he reclaimed his home for his people. This was a heavy burden for him to bear. He was thankful for his companions who tried to carry the weight with him, but they knew not of the enormous burden in his soul.

Thorin's mind traveled to Eryn's words last evening, she trusted him with her troubles because they were 'friend.' She spoke of wanting him to trust her with his burdens one day. He wondered if he ever could. The weight was more than he could bear, how could he trust anyone, let alone a woman, with this weight. It wasn't just weight, it was duty. He was sworn to his people, she was not. Perhaps if she chose his people- but he would not think it. He could not. She belonged to her home. Besides, who would she be? She had no family within their walls. She would have to be grafted into a family by marriage or adoption. Both made an uneasy feeling grow in the pit of his stomach. He was concerned because he knew of a few dwarves who would volunteer for either.

She said that there was still much that was fair in the world, and he agreed; she was indeed one of those things. He could not subject her to the grief of this quest, it would be for the better if she went home. The pain of his possible failure, the grief of the reality waiting for them if they succeed. Though they would rebuild, it would be no easy task. No, he did not wish for her to stay.

She saw so much beauty in the world, and he wondered if he could ever do that same. Maybe if he could learn, just as he had learned any other skill. Could the two cohabitate together, the grief with the seed of love?

Now he scoffed, he was daft to think of love. However, and whoever could he love? There was no time for it. Love was unimportant, a distraction. Though, he loved his nephews and his kin. He loved his sister. He loved his horse, as foolish as it sounded. Love was a simple thought that he could not entertain. Though he would try to see the world as fairly as Miss Fey did. Maybe that would sprout into a seed of love.

He tasked himself to see one thing each day as fair, even though it was a challenge beyond his skill set, as he was a naysayer by heart. He had tasked himself to find a new point of view. Could he let that beautiful seed of love grow, mingled with grief? Only time would tell.

Thorin did join in on the wrestling once he sorted his thoughts. He dominated the competition but nearly lost when Dwalin and his Nephews began to team upon him. It was all in good fun, Thorin enjoyed the time spent with his nephews. They rarely spent time speaking with him these days, and he cherished the few moments they spared him. They used to always dine together, now they joined Eryn. He wasn't sure who's company he was most jealous of. Obviously, his nephews, she only joked and pestered him. They spoke of home, their family, and the quest. Fine dinner discussion. Though perhaps he could join them for dinner occasionally. He did enjoy good company and laughing on a rare occasion.

They finished their bathing within an hour, and Thorin found himself walking across the grounds with his free afternoon. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but did he really need to be looking for anything? Couldn't he just aimlessly walk and enjoy the fresh air, the breeze on his skin, and the trees? Beorn’s property was an awesome thing to behold.

He strode from the house, through the garden and past the large patches of wildflowers. It reminded him of the flower crown the woman wove when they arrived here. They were so simple, but the colors reminded him of the veins of gemstones in the rocks of Erebor. The garnet and topaz, with amethyst and sapphire. He was them differently when he saw the colors as vibrant as the precious stones he cherished. He reached down and picked an amethyst flower from the cluster of vegetation, spinning it mindlessly in his fingers.

He continued his walk through the tall grass and stopped when he saw a peculiar sight. Curled up in the grass, surrounded by chickens, was Eryn. Her hair splayed out around her head like a crown, and a soft sigh escaped her. The sun danced on her skin from the trees above, and Thorin wondered if he should wake her. Perhaps not.

He knelt next to her and wondered if he should be concerned that his presence did not wake her. He would have been awake the minute someone approached from a yard away. He let out a soft hum, but she did not move. Thorin looked at the flower in his hand, then gently tucked it behind her ear into her hair. She still did not move. This woman slept like the dead. Perhaps she was dead. He couldn’t help but let out a humorous scoff. He decided to let her rest.

He watched her for a moment and considered sitting down in the grass next to her. Whatever his mind was telling him, he thought the better of it. But perhaps it wasn't his mind. After all, it was something deep in the pit of his stomach, a yearning, a sickening feeling really. It made him want to stay, but his mind was stronger.

When he returned to the house, it was almost dusk, the sky had turned to a fiery red, and the air grew colder. His laundry had been placed neatly atop his jacket, and from his coat, he retrieved his pipe and tobacco. It wasn't his usual custom to smoke before dinner, but his mind was a sorted mess. He had contemplated more topics on this day than he had in a long while. But before he could light his pipe, Dori was shouting for everyone to gather for supper. Perhaps mead would have to do for now.

He sat next to his nephews this evening, wanting to revel in their lighthearted spirits this evening.

“Where is Eryn?” Fili asked.

“She said she was going for a walk,” Bilbo said, taking a seat across from Thorin at the table.

"It's getting dark, should we go search for her? She would be outraged to miss supper." Kili offered, he was right, she was stark angry when she was hungry. He had left her asleep, perhaps she was still curled up with the poultry in the field.

"Did you all start without me?" A voice yelled from the doorway. A few heads turned, and Thorin noticed she had the purple flower in her hair still.

"There you are, we were about to go find you," Bilbo announced, patting the bench next to him, which Eryn took, obviously pleased.

“Sorry, I fell asleep,” Eryn said, rubbing her eyes for emphasis.

“No trouble, it was simply getting dark, and Beorn said not to be out after dark,” Bilbo pursed his lips as he began filling his plate

“Did you have a good rest? You looked tired after your bath.” Kili asked, and Thorin did notice exhaustion about her. He wondered what occupied her mind.

“I am, I guess my body just isn’t used to all of this work,” She shrugged and filled her glass with the mead that she swore she did not like the first day they arrived here.

“I thought you did not enjoy mead, Miss Fey?” Thorin asked, taking a drink of his own.

“I guess it grew on me, though I do wish it could be colder. I used to really enjoy an ice-cold beer from time to time,” Eryn sighed.

“Colder? We could put it in the cellar if you wish. That might chill it some for you,” Bofur offered, sitting next to her at the table.

“We can try it, I just really miss having a refrigerator,” Eryn groaned. What was a refrigerator? Before he could ask himself, the Hobbit seemed to have entertained the same question.

“What is a refrigerator?” Bilbo asked.

“It’s a…” Eryn paused and pursed her lips, she then let out an exasperated laugh, “It’s like a box, that keeps food cold for you. Not cellar chilled, but cold. Imagine taking the frosty mountains we crossed and putting that in a box to keep food cold.” She shrugged, and Thorin was still confused. He was not the only one.

“What? Kili asked, baffled.

“It’s so hard to explain. So, it's used to preserve food and keep it longer. You know how here in Middle Earth, meat is packed with salt to keep it from spoiling? Where I come from, we have an electric box that keeps it cold, and it does the same thing, only longer." Eryn looked at her audience, who were simply stunned silent, no one had any follow up questions because it was such a foreign concept. Even Thorin was lost for words.

“What is ‘electric’?” Bilbo was the only soul brave enough to ask.

"Oh dear," Eryn groaned, and she shook her head, defeated. "Can we talk about literally anything else, maybe we can talk about electricity after I've had more to drink." She laughed and set her eyes on Thorin next, he met her eye, wondering what insane thing she would say next. “Thorin, since everyone here knows something personal about me, will you please grace us with something personal about you?” She challenged, proving his suspicions, she was indeed insane.

"Something personal, you say?" Thorin raised an eyebrow and turned to look at his nephews, "Very well, but I reserve the right to deny any question I do not wish to answer." Thorin challenged and a few dwarves' snickers.

“That’s fair,” Eryn shrugged, “Did you ever court a lovely dwarf woman- whom you swear exist- or were you ever betrothed?” She asked, raising her glass to her lips. This was a simple enough question, one that was accompanied by an entertaining story.

“Not once was I ever betrothed; however, it was my father’s wishes that I enter into an arranged marriage to Dain Ironfoot’s daughter.” Thorin cringed, and many other dwarves at the table shared his sentiment. “It is not noble of me to disrespect a lady, but may I be so bold as to say, she was dreadful.” Thorin tried to not laugh, but a small chuckle escaped his lips.

“She barked orders, abused the maids, gossiped, and spoke ill of anyone she could. All while speaking through the tightest smile she could muster,” Dwalin added, obviously far less reserved. "Propriety is damned, Thorin, if you'd married that wretched woman, I would have mourned as if you'd been lost."

“She was presented to me at Durin's day many years ago when I was still a lad. My father had suggested the match to me in passing, but no formal offer had been made yet mind you." And no formal offer would be made once Thorin laid eyes on her. Her warts were one thing, but her leer was something else entirely. Thorin was not one to disregard anyone based on looks, but she was unsettling to the eye. “She had this, look, she was always sizing something up, or looking to devour it.”

“She looked as if she wanted to claw at him the moment she laid eyes on him,” Dwalin howled with laughter. Fili and Kili were keeled over with laughter as well. Even though they’d heard this story before, Thorin wasn’t sure they had ever heard it told so unceremoniously. Eryn’s mouth was agape with shock and laughter.

“Do you know what she said to me when we spoke that evening?" Thorin said, looking at Eryn, who was wiping tears from her eyes.

“What?” She begged, leaning in eagerly.

“She had a list of every stone she would require in her crown and a tailor crafting her dress as we spoke.” Thorin raised his eyebrows for

“No!” Eryn gasped and almost fell off the bench in her laughter.

“Aye, I was worried if she ever got Thorin alone, she would eat him alive,” Dwalin shook his head, remembering the dreaded woman as clearly as Thorin did.

“I begged my father to reconsider. I offered her more flattery than she was due to my father, but she was not my One. He relinquished the plan once I made that statement.” Thorin said, shaking his head at the distant memory of Des Ironfoot, the sour melon of the Iron hills.

“She coveted your sister vehemently; it was almost a crime. Their names are so similar, yet the two couldn’t be more opposite.” Dwalin observed, and Thorin hadn’t thought of that before. Dis and Des. Dis, a noble lady or propriety and respect, while Des was vapid and vain, how different they were.

“What is a One?” Bilbo asked, looking around the table.

“It is a Dwarves One. The only One. When a Dwarf encounters his one, they are bound for life.” Bofur said, nodding to the hobbit past Eryn, who looked intrigued.

“So, is it definite?” Eryn tilted her head curiously, “and once you’ve met your one, do they both know? Is it something magical or, is it a choice?”

“That is a question for those who have Ones,” Dwalin nodded towards Bombur, who was stuffing his face merrily, only looking up once he noticed he was now the center of attention.

“One is to be cherished. It is the unexplainable, irrevocable, and undeniable binding of two souls." Bombur spoke, his voice was heavy, and Thorin could tell that he missed his wife. "Once the bond has been made, you cannot break it.”

"But do you choose it? Or are you a victim of it?" Eryn clarified her question, her interest in it was curious to him.

“A little bit of both. When I saw my wife, why she was the most beautiful Dwarowdam I’d ever seen, granted I hadn’t seen many before her. But she saw me. She saw through me. No matter what I did, it was only made sweeter with her. That’s how I knew she was my One. She made my life the most vibrant it had ever been. When she agreed to marry me, why, I was the happiest I’d ever been,” Bombur’s joy was contagious, his brothers smiled, and Thorin thought he spotted a tear in Bomburs eye. “Once you agree to the sacred bond of Oneship, it cannot be undone.”

“There are no annulments or divorces in Dwarf culture? Nobody leaves?” Eryn asked, her eyebrows narrowed. Thorin wondered what her interest was, though she always did ask a magnitude of questions.

“Absolutely not,” Bombur gasped, “Once you have a One, to leave is to die.”

Thorin thought about this intently, if he was honest, he had never considered the topic of Oneship. In fact, he had never met any woman yet who could tempt him to Oneship. It was a fearsome thing to behold.

“So, you’ve never had a ‘One’ then?” It took Thorin a moment to realize she was looking at him. He jolted back a bit.

“No, I can confidently say that Des was not my One.” Thorin chuckled into his glass.

"Well, obviously," Eryn laughed in return, "I mean, there hasn't been anyone who sparked your interest? In all your hundred-and-old years, you've never met a lady-dwarf who took your breath away?"

Thorin thought about this for only a moment because the answer was quite simple, “No.” he said flatly, and Eryn was taken aback. “I was busy,” She didn’t seem thrilled with that answer either.

"Busy? Thorin, you deserve to be happy, just as much as anyone!" She pleaded, and he looked at the flower in her hair, took a deep breath, and held it. He hadn't realized what he'd done until this moment. He thanked Mahal that no one saw him place the flower in her hair. It was a simple gesture, nobody wouldn't look twice at it, but for a dwarf, that was something else entirely. Placing something in someone’s hair was a sign, it was usually done with a bead or a band. But some dwarves in the heat of the moment use whatever they had on hand. He had professed something without realizing it.

Thorin's face crept with warmth, and he conjured up the image of slaying an Orc once more, but it was too late. He was on fire. Finally, releasing his breath, he reached for his drink, trying to hide behind his cup, but she saw. She was grinning from ear to ear, and he wondered if she could read his mind. He begged Mahal to strike him down with his hammer.

“What? All I said was you deserve to be happy, don’t get all weird about it,” she teased, and Thorin heaved a sigh of relief into his cup. Maybe he could be spared still.

"I acknowledge that, and your concern does not go unnoticed. However,” Thorin paused, looking at the flower once more. How had he not noticed it; he was a fool to have done it in the first place. She looked so…. So, fitting of it, he settled. Thorin dared not conjure the words he really wanted to think. “My duty is to my people.” Thorin settled flatly, and everyone at the table saw his change in mood. The conversation was finished.

"Did you pick that flower in the field, Eryn?” Bilbo inquired, trying to lighten the mood. Eryn reached her hand up and touched the single amethyst flower in her hair. Her smile reflected the moon on a warm summer night, and Thorin's stomach tightened. Curse this involuntary feeling. It made him sick.

"I actually have no idea where it came from. I woke up from my nap, and it was there, so to whichever of you put it there, thank you." She answered genuinely, and everyone stopped.

They looked to one another wish scrutiny and concern, who at the table, if anyone, would dare make such a statement. Thorin looked about the room also, trying to save face. When no one spoke up, concern settled on her face. “If none of you did, then who put it there?”

“Perhaps you put it there and forgot?” Kili chimed in, and every dwarf exhaled the breath they had been holding. Nobody had thought of that, including Thorin.

“Maybe,” Eryn hummed and looked at Thorin now, he averted his eyes to his food and hoped that no one would speak of this ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you think? Thorin was very challenging to get into, he thinks so much different than Eryn does. Once I got into a rhythm though, he was wickedly fun to write. I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> -B


	17. More Than Gold

“Pip, that’s not yours,” Eryn informed the rodent who was stuffing his cheeks to bursting in the pocket of Eryn’s apron. Specifically, the one that held the birds feed. It was their third morning at Beorn's home, and she wondered if Beorn would ever return, and where on earth was Gandalf?

Eryn hummed a soft tune as she absentmindedly threw the seed out on the grass for the ducks. She would move onto the chickens next.

Eryn wanted to get out before sunrise to enjoy some peace and quiet before the land was swarming with Dwarves. Though she enjoyed her company far more now that they had a common understanding. They also didn't consider her to be a spy or imposter anymore, so that helped. Eryn had no idea how close she was to being left behind until Fili had informed her yesterday. She was thankful that she had the change of hearts that she did. Otherwise, Eryn would be finding her own way to Mirkwood. Thankfully, she swallowed her pride.

“Good morning, ladies,” Eryn chimed as she ducked her head into the doorless coop. Beorn trusted the wildlife around his property. A doorless coop was begging for foxes and any other animal to run off with a chicken.  
The birds were tucked into their cubbies and on top of hay looking expectantly at her. "Are you girls hungry?" She asked, pulling fistfuls of seed from her pockets and drew a beautiful line on the ground. The birds were awake now, they clucked and droned as they approached their morning meal. "Well, so am I," Eryn muttered when spotted the first nugget laying in the hay, and by the look of it, it was the first of many.

After she handed out all the seed and every bird was accounted for, she went to work gathering eggs. They were so beautiful, each a different color and size. Her pockets and basket filled quickly, so she had to evict Pip from his pocket to make more room. "Sorry, buddy," Pip scurried up her person and took his resting place atop her head. "You'd better not poop on me," She commanded, and Eryn wondered what mythical world she was living in now. Wizards, monsters, Bear men, and mice who had a personality that sat on her head. What a world.

"Lass," She heard someone call from outside. She ducked her head out, being mindful of her additional height, and met Dwalin outside. Eryn had her hands full of eggs. Dwalin took the sight before him gracefully, but the concern was still present in his eye. "You need a hand?" he offered, extending his reach to take the basket from her.

Eryn gave it willingly, and now with her arm free, she enjoyed the warmth of fresh eggs. She pressed the few still warm eggs to her cheeks and sighed. If Dwalin was concerned before, he agonized now.

"What in Durin's name are you doing, woman?" He asked, emphasizing each word.

“They’re so nice when they’re still warm,” Eryn explained as the eggs heated her cheeks. “The warmer the egg, the fresher. The fresher the egg, the better the taste” She nodded, though Eryn would admit that the mouse on top of her head probably made her look a touch more ridiculous. “Want to try?" She offered, Eryn did not want anyone to miss out on the more beautiful things in life, and that included warm chicken eggs.

Dwalin just shook his head and began walking back towards the house. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten by the way,” he informed her, and Eryn paused. She had no idea what he was talking about.

“Forget what?” she asked, worry setting into her stomach. Had she promised to do something? Obviously, she did not know what he was talking about, so she didn’t know what he could have forgotten in the first place.

“I told you I would teach you the basics of combat, but we’ve been busy as of late,” He raised his eyebrows at her, “You’ve definitely seen to that,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

The wave of relief flooded over Eryn. "Oh! I forgot all about that, I won't say no, but we're so close to Mirkwood, I wouldn't want to waste your time…" Eryn thought about their next steps, Mirkwood, which meant one thing, Spiders. Eryn shuddered. She would confidently say that she was fond of most any living thing, there wasn't any reason to dislike anything. But spiders, especially large ones, they could politely piss off. "You know, maybe it would be a good idea, Mirkwood sounds questionable." she laughed, trying to shake the thought of the great monsters out of her mind.

“And don’t think I’ll go easy on you, just because you’re a lass.” He informed her as they approached the door. “I haven’t forgotten the forehead comment either,” he said flatly.

“Why, I don’t know what you mean.” Eryn smiled coyly at him as she ducked under his arm through the door.

"There you are!" Dori called, shuffling over to her. "Have you got them?" He asked, and Eryn opened her pockets to show him her spoils. "Oh, delightful! I've started the coffee, perhaps we can cook some for breakfast."

Eryn followed him to the kitchen and carefully removed the eggs from her apron. The ones at the bottom were still warm, and she pressed them to her cheeks again, savoring the warmth.

"What in Durin's name are you doing?" Thorin asked as he appeared in the kitchen doorway, and Eryn gave him a cheeky grin. Dwalin simply shook his head at Thorin, pursing his lips.

"You don't want to know, lad."

After breakfast, they cleaned quickly, and Eryn began divvying out the morning tasks, and when she got to Dwalin, he protested immediately. "Oh no, lass, don't forget what we talked about."

"Do we have to do it now?" Eryn begged she didn't want to miss out on the morning chores.

"Aye lass, I said after breakfast, and it's now that time." Dwalin crossed his arms tightly across his chest and set his mouth into a firm line. Eryn couldn't help but feel a bit like a child.

“What time is that, exactly?” Bilbo asked, poking his head from around Dwalin.

"Training time, Master Baggins," Dwalin informed, then a sly fire lit in his eye, "In fact, you could benefit from this as well."

“Oh no, I won’t be participating in any fighting, brawling or tom-foolery of any kind, thank you.” Bilbo protested, but Dwalin wasn’t having any of that, and he slapped him on the shoulder.

“Go retrieve your letter opener, Master Baggins, you shall be a fine sparring partner.” He nodded towards Eryn, who had begun to pout. “And you, go get the dagger I gave you.” she obeyed and fetched her dagger, grumbling the whole way.

“Dwalin, what do you intend to do?” Thorin inquired as he leaned on the doorframe. Eryn saw the curiosity in his eyes and wondered if Thorin would join them.

Thorin was absent from the dining room last evening, and that concerned Eryn. They hadn't spoken much that day, but Eryn wondered if something had happened to make him retire to bed early. Though on the other hand, there was no meeting set, Eryn had just expected to see him in the dining hall last night as she had the nights prior.

She lit a small fire and sat alone at the table for quite some time, sipping her tea for a while before retiring herself. She had a lot on her mind that day, so the privacy was excellent, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. Eryn wasn't sure why she expected to see him, or why she was looking forward to it in the first place, but she was disappointed. Thorin was more relaxed when they were alone to speak, Eryn assumed it was because he didn't have to wear his metaphorical crown around her. She was not one of his people, and he was not her king. She felt like she was being let in on the great secret that was Thorin's personality.

"I intend to train them," Dwalin answered, matter-of-fact, breaking Eryn out of her great supposition. Thorin scoffed and looked at Eryn and Bilbo, who, in response, looked quite uneasy. "I intend to give them the basics, after Goblins, the wargs, and Azog, I do not want them to be met unprepared."

"Very well," Thorin muttered, though he didn't look too keen on the idea. "I will accompany you.”

"Very well," Dwalin echoed, and they both left to retrieve their gear.

“Alright, the very basics,” Dwalin began, his voice the most commanding Eryn had ever heard.

“Don’t get stabbed?” Eryn interjected, earning her a sharp look from Thorin. Eryn shrugged in response, returning her attention to Dwalin.

"Right," Dwalin responded, seeming to be already exhausted, and they hadn't even started yet. "Now, you will have a terrible day if you don't listen and do exactly as you're told?" Dwalin boomed, and both Eryn and Bilbo nodded vigorously. She didn't realize she had just enlisted.

They ran a few laps first, which much to Eryns surprise was much more comfortable than it had been before. Her body had grown accustomed to walking all day. She noticed her legs had grown leaner, and her endurance was far more significant. Next, Dwalin instructed them on how to handle a weapon. "First things first, you are to treat the sword with respect it is due. It is an extension of yourself, and it only does what you tell it to. You should be in complete control over it, that is how you protect yourself and others."

Eryn thankfully was very well instructed on weapons safety. Growing up in the Midwest meant she learned at a young age safety for yourself and others. So she knew how to handle most things with respect it was due. It was merely a part of life. Her Grandfather spent the majority of his hunting years using a longbow. Naturally, Eryn was taught how to use one from the moment she could hold one safely. A sword, like the one Dwalin was holding, was an entirely different creature. She fenced for a year and a half, but the swords were utterly different.

Once Dwalin finished his lecture, they ran again, much to Eryn's protest, but she understood the concept. "Now, pick up your weapons," Thorin instructed, and Bilbo pulled his dagger, looking at it nervously. Eryn drew hers as well, laughing at the concept of learning to fight with knives, but here she was. "You will be injured today, that is the way you learn. You will get cut, you will bleed." Thorin emphasized his words, and Eryn felt a little cold and clammy.

She hadn't handled a blade since the goblin tunnel and she hadn't one turned on her since... Her mind began to flicker like the static on an old television, but she willed it back. This would not poison her. She would not be afraid.

"Are you alright, lass?" Dwalin inquired, "You look as though you've seen the dead walk."

“I’ll be fine,” Eryn assured them, Thorin looked as though he was poised to move at any moment, and Eryn wondered what her face gave away. “I just got a little scared, is all.” Eryn absentmindedly rubbed one of the lines of puckered skin on her forearm. Eryn noticed Thorin watching her and nodded.

"Miss Fey, I know you have a lot to overcome," Thorin acknowledged, which Eryn was grateful for. "Every warrior has looked down the point of a blade at what could have been his executioner. It still haunts them to this day," Dwalin nodded in agreement, and Eryn wondered if they did indeed understand more than she knew, "But that cannot dictate the strikes we take in the future. They are not the same. Surviving once does not mean you'll never have to survive again, especially here. I'm not sure what it is like in your world, but there are many dangers here. You cannot give up simply because you have lived to see another day. You train to see the next." Thorin stood tall, and Eryn admired his words, his understanding, his ability to think practically through danger or peril. It was inspiring.

Eryn lifted her chin higher, and the pride swelled in her. “Then let's get started,” she agreed, and both Dwalin and Thorin looked at her with eyes of admiration, and that was worth more than gold to Eryn.

So they began, and Eryn was indeed injured by the end of their session. It started with the basics, how to lunge, jab, and the best way to achieve success. After a few hours of hearing Dwalin bark orders, Eryn grew tired, her wrist cramped, and she hesitated too much. In fact, Eryn was becoming angry.

Bilbo, however, took to it quite well. He danced an awkward dance, but he was successful all the same. When they began sparing each other, he almost cut Eryn's finger off in the process.

Eryn questioned if they should be using real blades, to begin with, Dwalin simply looked at her as if she sprouted another head. "Of course, we use real blades!" He roared, causing Eryn to stumble, "How else will you learn the proper weight, length, and motion of your weapon. What do you want to use? Sticks?" He mocked, and Eryn wanted to beat him with a stick. "Your enemy will not be bested with sticks."

It was the shock of being yelled at and the blade swinging towards her face that caused Eryn to panic. Her mind scrambled for a solution to the knife being swung directly towards her face. She yelled and caught the strike too close to her hand, causing the tip of Bilbo's blade to pierce her upper arm, just below her wrist. Eryn groaned with pain, but she surprised herself with the quickness she overcame the fear.

She ducked and shoved Bilbo hard, he fell to the ground with a loud thud. Eryn stood over him, finally victorious, and pointed her dagger at Bilbo, "There," Her breaths came quickly from exhaustion and pain. She threw her knife down in frustration and sat in the grass, cupping her arm. Blood colored Kili's shirt, and Eryn was sure it needed stitches.

“Eryn, are you alright?” Bilbo asked frantically, he crawled to her and turned a bit green from the sight. Eryn guessed he was afraid of blood, but in his defense, there was a lot more of it than expected.

“You did well, Miss Fey,” Thorin nodded, “I have a few suggestions that would prevent your injury in the future, but they can wait for another day.”

"You must teach yourself to stay calm under pressure, Eryn," Dwalin hissed as he observed her arm.

"I think I did alright, besides, we have been at this for hours. It was bound to happen eventually. You said it yourself," Eryn countered, and Thorin shrugged as he tried to wrap her arm with a strip of fabric.

"You did fine, but blast girl, you need training," Dwalin grumbled, and Eryn rolled her eyes, he knew what he was working with.

"Blades aren't something I've had experience with," Eryn defended, wincing at the grip Thorin had on her arm. "Give me a bow or a damn rifle, and we'll see who does fine." Eryn was still wound up from the stress, so her words were harsher and far bolder than she intended.

If Eryn was honest, she hated being bad at things. Ironically, she was terrible at a lot of things, but if she did something, she wanted to be good at it. Thorin and Dwalin have lived roughly six times her life, probably battling since birth, there was no way she could ever compete with that experience. In any field.

Both Thorin and Dwalin looked at each other, the unspoken conversation flying over Eryn and Bilbo's head was deafening. "What?" Eryn demanded, and they both looked at her now, eyes narrowed.

"A bow, you say?" Thorin asked, disbelief evident in his eyes, and Eryn sighed.

Dwalin and Thorin exchanged another look, and Dwalin nodded, "I'll go get Kili."

A few moments later, Dwalin returned to their training spot, Kili, in tow. "What is it?" Kili demanded, "Has something happened?" His eyes rested on Eryn, cradling her arm, and he immediately rushed to her side. "She's hurt! Why did you send for me and not Oin?"

"We don't need healing. What we need is a marksman," Dwalin informed the young dwarf, and Eryn looked up at them from her place seated on the grass.

“Miss Fey will not be mastering the sword any time soon, but she boasts of skilled marksmanship. We shall see,” Thorin informed his nephew, who looked as curious the other two dwarves had earlier.

It took a moment of brainstorming to come up with proper targets. Dwalin wanted to mark the tree, but then Fili, who was supposed to be working, arrived with the idea to string up a few large potatoes.

“Not the potatoes,” Bilbo whispered solemnly as they strung them through with a string. Eryn patted him on the shoulder sympathetically.<

"Now then, if this is what you are most comfortable with, you and Kili will practice until lunch," Thorin directed, and nodded towards his nephew. Kili grinned and drew an arrow so quick Eryn wouldn't have known, if it wasn't for Bilbo's cry, as the first arrow pierced his favorite hanging root vegetable.

"Your turn," Kili chimed, he was grinning like a fox and Eryn rolled her eyes.

“I hope you know that Kili will also be beyond my skill level, he has-” Eryn paused, trying to remember how old Kili was at this point, “How old are you?”

“Seventy-seven,” Kili beamed.

"He has fifty-one years on me, of course, he's going to be better," Eryn grunted, and she stood to her feet.

“We don’t want you to be better,” Thorin corrected, “We want you to try.”

Eryn nodded, trying to receive the correction with grace. She did have a bad attitude, and she didn't know if it was the exhaustion, the pain, or maybe her Grandfather was right; perhaps she was competitive.

Thorin handed her his bow, it was much smaller than she expected, but she could get used to it. Eryn took her stance shoulder-width apart and nocked her arrow. She stared at her target, it was about eighteen yards away, and Eryn took a deep breath. She raised the bow and drew back on the bowstring. It had been at least a few months since she's shot a bow, and her shoulder protested from her injury. The bite hadn't healed yet, and how her arm was cut. Eryn wanted to focus on the pain, but she cleared her mind and focused on her objective. She anchored the string to her mouth and took aim. On the exhale, Eryn released the bowstring, sending the arrow whizzing through the air.

By a miracle, she almost hit her target, the arrow stuck into the tree branch it hung from. Eryn groaned and hung her head, but she did not receive the reprimand she expected. Instead, she heard Kili gasp and Bilbo cheer.

"You're quite good, Eryn!" Kili gasped, "We can make a sharpshooter out of you yet," he beamed with such pride, it made Eryn feel like Annie Oakley, except with a bow and arrow.

"That was better than I expected," Dwalin announced, and Eryn was delighted at the praise she had received. It was the first nice thing she'd heard since they'd started.

"Thank you, it's been a while since I've shot, but my Grandfather did see that I learned archery," Eryn explained. "In fact, it was my grandmother who taught him, if you'd believe that. She was good at it. Competed in competitions, I guess."

"Fili, since you're supposed to be working, go fetch the arrow for me," Thorin commanded and approached Eryn. Fili grumbled as he dashed down range to retrieve the arrow. "You shoot fine, I would only make a few minor adjustments, perhaps you will hit your target this time." Eryn knew he didn't say those things to be mean, but his tone them made him sound so pompous and critical. Though Eryn supposed, it was the king in him. It was only natural to critique performance. She couldn't help but laugh.

“What?” He narrowed his eyes at her, and she was able to slow her laughter to a stifled giggle.

"You're just so forward," Eryn informed him, and he tilted his head, unsure of their implications.

“I am forward because I want you to succeed, do you not want to improve your skills?” He sounded mildly insulted.

"I do, I just forget that you're a king sometimes. It's your job to observe and correct, so nothing is done poorly. You're critical, and I just have to remind myself that it's for my benefit." Eryn explained, and Thorin looked surprised. Perhaps he was used to being fought tooth and nail about corrections, he wasn't expecting someone to agree with him.

"Regardless," He groaned, pinching his nose, "You would do well to have some correction, now-" Thorin handed Eryn back the bow and the retrieved arrow. "Take your stance," He commanded, and Eryn did so. He walked around her and observed for what felt like an hour to someone holding a bow ready to fire. "You drawback with your arm, relax your arms and shoulders, and engage your back muscles, here." He placed a hand on her back and held it there for a moment. Eryn adjusted accordingly, relaxing her arms and shoulder, then feeling the pull in her back where he pointed. When he was satisfied, he moved to the next change.

"Next, your elbow is far too high, drop it," He moved her drawn elbow down, and Eryn remembered that this was something she was corrected on often. "Relax your other arm, it's too tight. Your shot won't be straight if you are too tight." He pulled her other elbow, so it bent slightly. "There," He breathed. Eryn was abundantly aware of his closeness and what this scene might look like to those watching. She felt the warmth begin to creep into her face. "Release when you're ready."

Eryn took a breath, ignoring the possible teasing she would receive, as well as the person invading her personal space, and released. This time, she hit her mark.

Eryn lept with delight, Fili, Kili, and Bilbo cheered, and she received precisely one pat on the back from both Dwalin and Thorin. Eryn was ecstatic.

“Very well done,” Thorin congratulated.

Eryn spent the next hour shooting with Kili, under the close observation of Dwalin and Thorin. Kili corrected her and taught well; Eryn admired his ability to explain a task clearly. He seemed like the softer of the brothers, but on the contrary, once he spoke about things he was passionate about, a fire was lit in his soul that couldn’t be extinguished. Eryn managed to land a few more solid shots, but by the time the hour had passed, her arm was in agonizing pain. So, they retired for lunch.

After lunch, Eryn was treated for her knife wound; it did indeed need stitches, and Eryn did not enjoy it. She generally had a high threshold for pain, but this was a pain she was thankful modern medicine numbed her to. She had stitches on multiple occasions prior, no thanks to Ian, and just living on the farm. But this was the first time she had stitches without any local anesthetic. She just told herself that she was getting the tattoo she always wanted. But it didn't help. She thought poor Bilbo's hand would be blue or broken by the end. He insisted on helping since he inflicted the damage, he nearly passed out himself.

After she was bandaged up, Eryn retreated to the fields once more for some peace and quiet. She adored the wildflowers and the birds who visited. There were so many flowers, and Eryn was in awe. The yellow flowers looked like celandine, and they grew so thick where she had napped the day before. Which reminded her, who had placed that flower in her hair? Eryn was sure she didn't put it there unless she did it in her sleep, which was unlikely. Maybe she could ask Pip.

Then there was the awkward tension as to who put it there. Every dwarf looked like teenagers who got caught fooling around with their girlfriends. The embarrassment was palpable. She would have to do some investigating later.

Eryn heard the shifting of grass and looked over to see Pip bounding towards her. Pip usually crawled into her pocket or sat on her person somewhere, but this time he ran small circled in the grass. Eryn sat up and watched the scene play out before her eyes. “What is it?” She asked curiously.

Pip responded by running a few feet towards the barn and repeating his circle. It became a pattern, so Eryn got up and followed him. She began to feel the worry settling in her stomach for whatever he was leading her to. "Is something wrong?" Eryn asked as she followed the small field mouse into the barn.

He led her to the front corner of the barn, where he scurried up one of the windows and into a small hole carved into the frame. Eryn watched the hole for a moment and waited. Nothing. “Did you bring me here for something?” Eryn questioned, and Pip poked his head out of the hole, his whiskers twitched at her. “Do you want me to do something?” She rephrased, looking into the hole, then the realization hit her, “Is this your home?” Eryn smiled.

Pip popped his head back into the hole for a moment, and when he emerged again, he had a small lump in his mouth. He approached Eryn and placed the small ball onto the window in front of her. "Pip," Eryn gasped, "Are you a daddy?" she held out her hand, and he placed the small creature in her palm. "Did you want me to meet your family?" She whispered.

The pup was tiny, barely the size of half her thumb. Pip in fact had four babies and a Mrs. Pip. Eryn was in awe and genuinely grateful that this rodent felt the need to introduce her to his family. She felt honored. Now Eryn was sure of it, she was trapped in a mythical land. "You have a lovely wife," Eryn informed him.

This world was incredible, each creature had its own voice here. Each person was so unique in their own way. Elves, Dwarves, Hobbits, even men seemed more capable than her own home. She could be whoever she wanted to be here. If Eryn could figure out the door, she could visit whenever she wanted. If Eryn wished to live with Elves in the summer, Hobbits in the winter and Dwarves in the fall, why couldn't she? The excitement rose in her. Eryn began planning her new life, only to stop at the reality that was staring her in the face. She didn't belong here. She didn't have a little hole in the barn to live in, she had no family, she had nothing. Everything she had, which wasn't much, was in Michigan. Eryn felt the sadness bloom in her mind before she realized it, was she jealous of a rodent? That was ridiculous.

“Ahem,” Eryn heard from behind her. She whipped around and saw Thorin standing in the doorway.

"You scared me," Eryn gasped and returned the small rodent to Pip, who was waiting eagerly.

“I came to check on you,” Thorin informed her, his arms folded tightly behind his back, “You disappeared after lunch.”

“I wanted to relax after being a human pin cushion,” Eryn watched as Pip scurried in and out of the hole returning his pups to their home. “Besides, I wanted a little quiet after being shouted at all morning,” Eryn moped, “Though, the second half was better.”

"You did very well today, Miss Fey," Thorin informed her, nodding at her mindfully.

"Thanks," Eryn smiled as she turned to walk back to the field, "You can call me Eryn, Miss Fey makes me feel like my Grandmother." She laughed, and Thorin followed behind her.

"If you think as highly of her as you do your grandfather, that is not such a bad thing," Thorin observed, Eryn couldn't argue, she loved them both. "Or do you not think well of her?"

"No, I adored her, she was an incredible woman," Eryn turned to him, pausing so they could walk at the same pace, "I swear beauty followed her everywhere she went. She is an honor to be compared to." Eryn smiled at the fond memory of her grandmother, she was a vision.

"What was she like?" Thorin inquired, and Eryn was delighted to talk about her. Her grandparents were her favorite topic of discussion.

"She was a star, I swear. It was like sunshine radiated through her. She was so warm and loving.” Erin's voice grew in admiration, “She never spoke much about herself, but she was an absolute pleasure to know. Everyone she met spoke highly of her. I wanted to be her so badly, she left quite a legacy.” Eryn remembered the days when she would cry to her mother, begging to have golden hair like Grandma Mary. She wanted her steely blue eyes and her beautiful slender physique. Even in her final year, she was a beautiful woman.

"My Grandfather worshiped her. Every time she walked into a room, it was like he saw her for the very first time. He called her his Prize. If he had nothing left, and everything he owned was gone, but he still had her; he would still be a rich man.” Eryn sighed at the thought. “She passed in her sleep, and he lost everything.”

"What did your Grandfather do when she passed?" Thorin asked, his voice was soft, and his brow was knit close together, he was listening intently. Thorin could make people feel heard when he wanted to. Even though he didn't seem to be listening at times, Eryn never felt like she was speaking aimlessly, and if he wanted to hear, he never forgot.

"He mourned. In his own way. He didn’t leave the shop for days, he didn't want anyone to be there with him, so I just left food at the door and waited at the house for him to come home." Eryn shrugged.

“And you?” Thorin turned to look at her, they had arrived at the field of yellow and amethyst flowers, and Eryn flopped down onto the soft grass.

“I managed” Eryn picked mindlessly at the flowers around her, “Nobody’s prepared to pick up after a person who isn’t coming back." Eryn reflected on the few days she was at the house alone, "Folding the clothes she intended to fold, throwing out the old tea at her bedside table. Sorting through the meals that she intended to make. It was so strange, the echo of someone who intended to live the next day but didn't."

“I am sorry for your loss,” Thorin offered, sitting across from her in the grass, “I am familiar with such loss, only different circumstances," Thorin's eyes grew dark, and he pulled out his pipe. He packed it and lit it before beginning to speak again, "My Grandfather, Thror, was killed by Azog in the mines of Khazad-dûm. He returned there, wanting to reclaim what was taken from his people. We told him it was a fool’s errand, but he left without word one day. He was mad to only take one other with him. Nar returned many weeks later with the news that my Grandfather Thror was killed. Azog beheaded him and carved his name onto his face. It was vile. Nar only returned with a pouch containing few coins of little worth, it was a 'fee,' or so Azog called it.” Thorin spat, gritting his teeth, and Eryn’s stomach twisted with disgust at the sickening gesture. “I melted those coins down, and made this," Thorin reached into his pocket, retrieving something small. He handed it to Eryn and, in her palm, was a single bead, bearing the signet of the house of Durin. Eryn noticed that Thorin, Fili, and Kili all had one of these attached to a brain in their hair.

“Why did you make this?” Eryn asked, rolling the bead between her fingers.

“So that when Azog is finally dead, I can mark my victory with his insult. I will weave a new braid, to always remember the sacrifice given and Azogs reign of terror is finally ended.” Thorin’s voice was firm, he closed his eyes and took a long draw of his pipe.

“What happened after Azog killed him?" Eryn dared ask, she knew the answer but wanted to hear him say it. Reading about it in a book was different than having someone who lived it tell you.

“We went to war,” Thorin muttered bitterly, “You do not kill a king without expecting war and expect us Azog did. The war of the Dwarves and Orcs began. A war so vile and pitiless, rarely will a Dwarf who’s seen it recant what he saw.”

“Will you? Talk about it that is,” Eryn asked, not necessarily because she wanted to know, but because she wondered if Thorin would tell her. “Not that you have to.”

“I cannot,” Thorin whispered, “My Father, Thrain, lost an eye, as well as his youngest son. My brother, Frerin. He was forty-eight, merely a child.”

Eryn realized that life here in Middle Earth, magical as it was, was greatly unforgiving. What loss did she think she had seen? Not that any loss is comparable, but if she ever thought that none of them would understand, she was sorely mistaken. “I’m so sorry,” Eryn said softly, looking at the flowers once more.

“It is as you said, the world is full of darkness and peril, but there is still much that is fair." He took a long draw from his pipe and exhaled slowly, the smoke from his pipe blew in the breeze, and he sighed. "That is why I want to reclaim Erebor, my people have suffered enough. I want to give them a fair life. The sun will shine on us once more.”

They sat in silence now, Eryn did not know what to say, so she silently wove another crown of the amethyst flowers growing in the field. She wanted to tell him of his fate so desperately, but what would that do? Telling someone, they would die was never received well by the person receiving the news. Eryn grew sad none the less, she wondered if she stayed, could she even help prevent the coming storm? What could she do? And it wasn't the loss of life alone. It was the sickness, the betrayal, and all the misfortune that lead to the point of death. Eryn only had a week or more left with them, what could she do?

“Do you truly not know?” Thorin interrupted her thoughts, and she responded with a hum. “Do you not know who placed the flower in your hair yesterday?” Eryn stopped her weaving and looked up at him, did he know? Her heart raced.

“No, I don’t know,” Eryn tried to answer calmly, her mind was running twenty questions at once. “But I figure, I’d just ask Pip, I think he was there.” Eryn shrugged, returned her hands to the flowers, hoping it would calm her shaking. Thorin remained silent, he didn’t take another puff of his pipe, he sat, unmoving.

“He is a mouse, he cannot speak,” Thorin finally huffed, and Eryn nodded in agreement.

“No, but I know someone who can ask him for me,” Eryn grinned as she tied off her chain of flowers. Thorin’s face became cool as stone. His eyes looked as if he had retreated far beyond the reach, and Eryn wondered what he was thinking. Surely it was no scandal to know who gave her a flower. It was absolute lunacy, making such a big deal out of it.

"Beorn's back!" She heard Bilbo call from the house, almost as if he was listening to their conversation. Eryn sat up straight, forgetting the flower debacle altogether, and her smile widened.

“Speak of the devil,” Eryn muttered and stood to her feet, placing her newly woven crown upon her head. Thorin, however, sat unmovingly, his pipe had gone out, and he said nothing. “Ready to head back?” She asked, extending a hand to him, but he did not take it. He stood to his feet and began walking back to the house in silence.

Eryn wondered what on earth was going on inside that mind of his. Maybe the talk of losing his family weighed on him heavily. Eryn didn't know how much he spoke of them, she assumed not much if she knew anything about Thorin. He had grown so silent.

And while Eryn wondered what grand secrets Thorin’s mind held, Thorin’s mind was occupied by something else entirely. Because that was the moment that Thorin Oakenshield knew, he had made a colossal mistake, and his reputation was in the hands of a rodent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, well, what timing.
> 
> Thank you for making it this far in my story, as always thank you to everyone who left me a lovely message or review. I appreciate all of your thoughts, inquiries, and speculations. There's nothing more fulfilling as a storyteller than people trying to figure out the plot and leaving theories. Thank you so much.


	18. Family Interest

Beorn’s return was rejoiced by many of the dwarves, yet forlorn by others. Eryn assumed it was because this signaled their final hours at Beorn's home. After the first hour of whispered complaints, her assumptions were almost entirely verified. They had all grown quite accustomed to the rich food, the beautiful land, and the soft hay beds.

Eryn picked at her thumbnail as she waited for Beorn to return from his walk. She was nervous about the return of Beorn, not because of the way they parted, but because she had been left in charge of his land. He wanted to inspect their work and make sure everything was in order. It was like she was being tested, even though she knew all the answers, the fear of failure still played obsessively in her mind.

When Beorn returned from his inspection, he wore a grand smile, and Eryn perked up, wondering if he was pleased with their work. Almost all the dwarves followed behind, awaiting what word he brought back. But Beorn had already made it known upon his arrival that he was to tend to his family first, then he would feed the greedy ears of dwarves.

“Well done, Fair Flower,” Beorn praised, she saw Pip poking his head out of Beorn's hair, and Eryn wondered if they had spoken. Her own personal question burning in her mind. "Pip says you all tended the land well."

Eryn heaved a sigh of relief, thankful to have made friends with their supervisor. "I hope we didn't tend to anything incorrectly, we did what we could,” Eryn looked down at her feet and tapped the toe of her shoe on the wood floor beneath her. “I also couldn’t tend to the bees, I didn't know how," Eryn admitted, causing Beorn to laugh.

“My hounds tended to them, worry not.” He placed an oversized hand on her shoulder and gave her a gentle pat. “They tend to themselves mostly, except when it is time to harvest the honey, which it is.” Beorn motioned to Eryn to follow him; the company followed closely behind.

They walked to the kitchen, and Beorn began pulling jars out from the cellar and handed them to Eryn. “Would you like to learn?” He asked, and Eryn nodded eagerly. She’s always wanted to know how to farm bees, but the thought of Beorn’s golf ball-sized bees made Eryn's hands sweat. "Very well, walk with me," He instructed, heading for the front door. "You all, stay," He commanded flatly, as he passed the group of dwarves, he grunted to each one. Beorn was already beyond his patience with the Dwarf company. They were following a bit close, even for dwarf standards. Eryn could tell this bothered him, and she couldn't help but snicker at their offense, as they were angered by their lack of inclusion.

Beorn was silent as they approached his Apiaries, Eryn had to basically jog to keep up with his long strides.

“You look far brighter than when I left you, Flower.” Beorn finally spoke, causing Eryn to think about how he left her. When Beorn had gone, Eryn was a shell of a person, untrusting and quite frankly, unbearable. Even Eryn wanted nothing to do with the woman who sat on Beorn's porch a mere three days ago. She felt as though she was a new person. Eryn understood her companions more, understood herself better, now her only obstacle was how to get home, and what she would do once she got there.

“I feel brighter,” Eryn confirmed, smiling at the flowers that freckled the stone path they followed.

“Even my land looks brighter, I have not seen this many wildflowers grow here in many years,” Beorn observed, causing Eryn to observe her surroundings as well. He was right. She hadn’t noticed because she was living in it for these few days, but now that he had mentioned it, there were far more flowers then when they arrived. It wasn’t even spring, how odd.

“Maybe they like all the company,” Eryn grinned up at Beorn, and he nodded, surveying his land with pride.

“Perhaps,” Beorn turned and continued down the path to the beehives.

“So, did you find what you were looking for?” Eryn asked, wondering what exactly that was.

“I did, I will speak with your companions about this at supper, we have much to discuss. Tell me, did you bite and scratch? Or did you loosen your armor?” Beorn set the jars down and approached the first of his many hives.

“I think you would be proud to know that I loosened my armor, a little” Eryn placed her jars next to the ones Beorn was holding and followed behind him. The buzz and drone of the bees were rhythmic and also mind-numbing, she found it hard to focus.

“I am proud,” Beorn approved, removing the first frame of honeycomb from the bee box he had built. "You have a new wound, I notice."

  
Eryn looked at her arm, freshly bandaged. “Yes, I was injured in a sparring match,” Eryn admitted with a shrug, Beorn snorted and heaved a large wooden wheel with a handle and a spout over to where they stood. It looked like the butter churn only much greater in size.

“Sparring sounds an awful lot like biting and scratching, Brave Flower,” Beorn observed as he began removing the white caps that sealed each comb with a large knife.

"It wasn't a quarrel," Eryn laughed, "We were training, I know what's in those woods, and I have no intention of not being able to save myself or others." Once he had removed the wax caps, Eryn watched Beorn secure the frames vertically into the large barrel.

"You know what is in the woods because you've been there before? Or do you hold more secrets?" He looked at her pointedly, and Eryn became frantic for an answer to her blunder. She had grown too relaxed, thankfully it was Beorn and not a dwarf.  
"I've heard rumors," Eryn muttered, looking at her feet, and Beorn howled with laughter.

"You are a pitiful liar," Beorn announced with a roar amidst his unfinished fit of laughter. He then placed the last tray into the barrel and secured the lid on top with a satisfying thud.

Eryn pursed her lips, unsure if he was angry or genuinely amused. She figured she didn't exactly tell a lie though; she had never seen an enormous spider. Eryn had only read about them and thus could not prove it was true. So, therefore, it very well could be a rumor. "How do you know?" Eryn shot back, "I have heard rumors about the monsters of Mirkwood, even where I come from, we tell stories about it."

“And where is that exactly?” Beorn challenged, Eryn sighed, she had gotten herself into a predicament.

I’m from Earth, not Middle-Earth, just normal Earth. It's like Middle-Earth, only without the magic, and the dwarves, elves, well, most everything really.” Eryn settled.

“Come, crank this handle,” Beorn instructed, and Eryn obeyed quickly. She took hold of it and began to turn it while Beorn fetched a jar, placing it under the spout at the bottom of the barrel. “You are a tragic storyteller,” Beorn challenged once more, and Eryn settled to tell her story.

She told Beorn of how she came to Middle-Earth through the door in the wall, her joining the company so she could return home and how the tales of Middle-Earth were told as history, nothing more, nothing less. Beorn listened intently, he didn’t ask questions, only grunted from time to time as Eryn explained herself. He was a far better audience than Dwarves.

Beorn nodded for her to stop, and she obliged, her arms sore from cranking the handle so vigorously. He lifted the once empty jar and held it up for her to see. It was full of rich, amber honey. He held it next to her face and grinned, "Now I know what your color reminds me of. You have eyes of honey," He beamed, sticking a finger in the syrup and lifting it to his mouth. He placed it in his mouth and removed it with a loud smack. "Try some," He tilted the jar to her, and Eryn stuck her small finger in giving it a taste. She savored the warmth as it swirled in her mouth. It was almost like magic, the flavor was so bold, she had never tasted honey like it.

“Why does it taste so different compared to what you have in your home?” Eryn asked, and Beorn nodded approvingly.

"Because it is fresh from the hive and hasn't been filtered or sitting. It is in its purest form," He announced, beaming with pride.

“That is a preposterous tale,” Beorn placed another jar under the spout and took over cranking on the handle. "But, I do believe you. You have a magic about you that is almost uncanny." Beorn announced, and Eryn scoffed, magic? What on Earth was he talking about?

“Beorn, there’s no magic where I come from. It’s stuff you only read about in stories; no human can do magic in my world.” Eryn fought, but Beorn pursed his lips, clearly unsatisfied.

“No one travels through a door as you did, without magic,” Beorn noted, and Eryn realized she hadn’t thought about that before. What had made the door send her here in the first place? She had just accepted her fate and worked towards righting the apparent mistake. Eryn had never considered what brought her here in the first place? Be it a higher power like the Valar or magic, which was preposterous, Eryn had never done magic a day in her life. But maybe there was someone else who did? The only other person in the shop when the door first called to her was her Grandfather, but he couldn’t do magic, he could hardly work the TV remote.

"Maybe," was all Eryn could mutter, she didn't want to admit defeat, but what else could it be? "Though I do not use magic, maybe somebody or something did," Eryn decided to give him that satisfaction. "Whatever it was, I'm stuck here, so I'm making the best of it."

"You most certainly are. As I have said, you are not the Flower I left on the porch that evening. I look forward to watching you bloom in your season." Beorn smiled at her, and Eryn wondered what this giant, cryptic, bear man meant by that.

"I feel terrific about how things are turning out," Eryn admitted, watching the amber liquid flow into the jar at an agonizing pace.

“You are not the only one,” Beorn offered, and Eryn thought she heard a hinted play of his words.

“What do you mean?” Eryn shifted uncomfortably, she would admit that she was far more comfortable with her companions. But she felt as though Beorn was about to expose some secret she didn’t know she had.

"Your companions, a few, in particular, look far more-" Beorn paused, and replaced the jar from under the spout with an empty one. "Comfortable." Beorn settled, and the worry growing in Eryn's stomach had settled some.

"Speaking of my companions," Eryn looked at the ground once more, "I have a question for you." She felt the ball of anticipation begin to grow in her stomach. It was just a flower, why was she so obsessed over the answer? If her companions hadn't reacted as they did, she wouldn't have cared in the slightest. It would have just been a flower placed by an unknown giver, but their response hinted at a more significant scandal. One Eryn was dying to know.

What Eryn disliked, though, was how childish and girly she was becoming about it. What if it was Bilbo or Balin who placed it there? Would she feel the same anticipation, or would she be disappointed? Disappointed in what anyway? It's not like she's on Dwarf-Match.com. It was just a flower, Eryn settled, but she had to know.

“Ask it,” was all Beorn replied, and Eryn felt so stupid to even ask this from a man who had far better things to do with his life.

"Would you ask Pip if he saw who placed the purple flower in my hair?" Eryn smiled sheepishly, the warmth creeping into her cheeks.

Beorn let out an earth-quaking laugh, causing Eryn to nearly fall to the ground. He clutched his belly and howled. Eryn wondered if it would ever stop. After he was finished, he continued cranking as if nothing ever happened. She stared at him for a moment, afraid to ask the question again or prod him for an answer.

“The giver of the Amethyst flower?” Beorn repeated, and shook his head, “Ah yes, Pip informed me of unique events beginning to unfold. I wondered if that was the water that aided your blooming,” Beorn grinned and Eryn was genuinely lost now, what events? “I will tell you, but not now, I want you to think if you truly want to know or not.”

Why wouldn't she want to know? Eryn pressed her lips into a hard line. What was so important about this stupid Flower anyway? Though she could ask herself the same question. "I do want to know, that's why I asked you," Eryn grumbled, and Beorn laughed again. Her discomfort obviously amused him.

“I will not tell you, not at this time.” Beorn topped off the last jar of honey and handed it to her. Eryn’s shoulders slumped.

“Why not?” She exclaimed, but Beorn didn’t answer her. He picked up two jars of honey and placed them in her hands. Then picking up the last two, he strode back down the path.

"Because I do not want to," Beorn called over his shoulder, and Eryn couldn't argue with that.

***

When they returned to the house, they heard whispers and hisses. There was obviously a party of dwarves pressed to the front door, awaiting their return. Eryn knew this, because she and Beorn entered the house through the door in the kitchen. When she walked into the dining room, they were huddled by the front door and window. All apart from Thorin, Bifur, Balin, and Dwalin, who did not participate, were quite surprised that they were found out.

"For heaven's sake, let them in peacefully," Eryn heard a familiar voice command. Sitting at the dining table was Gandalf.

“Look who’s returned,” Bilbo cried, his admiration for the wizard was venerable and endearing.

“And where were you off to?” Eryn asked, placing her two large jars of honey on the banquet table.

“I was tending to business of my own,” Gandalf nodded, smoking his pipe. “I hope you all stayed out of trouble,”

“Hardly,” Eryn teased.

“Miss Fey, you seem, lighter,” Gandalf observed, causing a smile to break across Eryn’s face.

“I took your advice,” Eryn began, standing next to him. His eyes seemed heavier than the last time she saw him. “And you were right.” She smiled at him, and he searched her eyes, his own growing warmer.

“I see, and what did you find?” Gandalf asked, his eyes narrowing, he then took a long draw of his pipe.

“Friends," Eryn smiled and scurried off to investigate dinner. But before she left, her eyes settled on something that piqued her interest. Beorn was towering over Thorin, they both had their arms crossed.

"Speak with me," Beorn instructed, and Thorin's eyes flickered to Eryn's for merely a moment, but at that moment, she saw deep concern settle there. He hid it well, bowing up and stiffening his posture, as he always did when he felt challenged. Thorin only nodded diagonally towards the man looming over him, and when they left through the front door, nobody dared to follow.

“Well, shall we see to supper,” Gandalf announced, startling the tense company of dwarves who began to shuffle about the room, trying to find something to do.

“Dori, Balin, Bombur, Bilbo,” Eryn called from the kitchen doorway, “Will you assist me, please?”

“Aye!” A few of them shouted, following her into the kitchen.

As they prepared supper, Eryn couldn't help but wonder what Beorn wanted to speak to Thorin about in private. Had they done something wrong? Or had he found something that didn't add up in his mind about Gandalf's story? Beorn said he approved all the work done on his property, so that couldn't be it. Beorn obviously wasn't fond of dwarves; She had read about that and experienced it firsthand. Perhaps it was something else entirely. Whatever it was, the dwarves seemed perturbed by it, Balin especially. So, Eryn decided to distract them in the way she knew best, conversation; and while she had the small company of dwarves, Eryn figured she would ask some questions of her own. Her Grandfather once said that once Eryn got ahold of a wild hair, she would interrogate the whole town until she found her answer. Eryn was beginning to find that this was indeed true.

“Balin,” Eryn addressed the matured dwarf standing next to her, who was plating tomatoes. He looked up at her, his large eyebrows shot up in attention. “Why was everyone so concerned by my mystery flower last night?”

He nodded his head thoughtfully, pressing his lips into a firm line. “You noticed that did ya?”

“Noticed?” Eryn laughed, “You all looked like you walked in on your parents bumping uglies. If it was supposed to be a subtle reaction, you all failed, miserably.”

Balin chuckled, “Thorin was right, you do say the most peculiar things.” Eryn grinned coyly. “Aye lass, in Dwarf culture, it is a serious thing to put something in someone’s hair. I’m sure you notice we are very particular about our hair. It is a sacred thing, a crown, of sorts. It is very intimate to place something in another’s hair.”

“But it was just a flower, hardly a scandal could come from that,” Eryn thought aloud, and Balin shook his head firmly.

"Not so, if anything is placed in the hair, it is a sign of intention. Often it is done with a bead or a band. But if it is done in the heat of the moment, or if the man is poor, he will offer something, such as a flower, until he can afford a more permanent gift.” Balin lifted the crown of flowers off Eryn’s head, the very one she had forgotten about, again. “In this case, if this was given to you by one of us, it would be a sign to everyone here that that dwarf had asked to quart you, and you accepted.”

Eryn’s eyes grew wide, she was beginning to understand now why the flower was such a scandal. “Even if it was just one flower?”

"Aye, only one. If something is placed if a woman's hair, or a man, you would be announcing the ownership of your hand. Not necessarily for marriage, the proposal is another thing entirely, but you intend to move towards that." Balin explained. Bilbo had moved closer now, intent on their conversation.

“Is that what the beads with the family signet are given for?" Eryn asked, there was so much to dwarf culture she didn't know. Even after years of obsessively reading and web-searches, there was this microlayer of a culture she did not expect to unravel.

“Nay lass, a family bead is given once the woman has agreed to be under the family name, strictly for marriage or family interest," Bombur explained, stirring a large copper pot, Balin nodded in agreement.

"Family interest? What does that mean?"

"Say, Kili asked you to marry him," Balin offered, and Eryn's nose scrunched. She felt her face grow warm at the idea. Not that Kili wasn’t a suitable man, he was very handsome and kind, but the thought of marrying him was strangely offensive. Like marrying a brother or a best friend. "Hear me out," Balin said in response to her off-putting face, "If you agreed to marry him, you would get a decorative family hair bead. Now say, you were asked to join his family, not for marriage, but for personal reasons, you would be given a family bead as well. Under both circumstances, this would inform any other potential suitors or people who wish to engage with you socially that you are under the house of Durin. So, people know who you belong to and who you represent.”

This made more sense to Eryn now; this was vastly different from the marriage proposals she was used to. “So, you get a bead when you’re proposed to and not a ring?”

"The lass can have both, should the suitor desire. Most women are given hair beads, as it is very lavish to have a ring. Usually, if the family was wealthy, she would be given a hair bead and a ring. Sometimes a ring is given at the marriage ceremony." Balin explained, and Eryn wondered how they had arrived at the topic of marriage.

“Well, that explains why you all reacted as you did,” Eryn nodded, her mind was burning with more questions.

"Aye, though, if it was given to you by one of us, it would be foolish to have asked you," Balin announced, and Eryn was visibly startled.

"And why is that?" Eryn asked, feigning offense.

“Because there is no family to approve of the courtship,” Dori chimed from his cutting board, Eryn had honestly forgotten that he was there.

“Family has to approve?” Eryn’s eyebrows shot up.

"Your nearest relative would have to approve the match before the flower was placed. Since you aren't from here, that would be a touch difficult." Balin shrugged.

“And there are no exceptions?” Bilbo asked.

"Unless she appoints someone to act as her formal kin, then she would be ineligible," Bombur announced, taking a long slurp from the ladle, he pursed his lips, then sprinkled in more salt.

“So, I could ask anyone to be my kin? Would that fall under ‘Family interest?’” Eryn inquired, pulling plates from the shelf.

"Aye lass, if it were a Dwarf anyway, you would have to be approved by every living member of said family. Because you would be representing their name as a whole," Balin nodded, and Eryn pursed her lips, she wondered how challenging that would be. A spark of excitement lit in her chest, maybe this would be a way to stay in Middle-Earth? Or at least visit. But who would be willing to take her in? If anyone of these dwarves wanted to take her into their family, she could possibly visit Middle-Earth whenever she wanted. Eryn was getting ahead of herself though, she would have to figure out how the door worked first.

“Interesting,” Eryn mumbled, popping a piece of cucumber in her mouth. “Hypothetically, if I wanted to visit Middle-Earth after I find my way home, could I appoint a family in Erebor and visit whenever I wanted?"

“Hypothetically,” Balin agreed.

"Would you?" Eryn asked point-blank, causing Balin to look up, shocked and confused.

"Would I what?" His eyes narrowed, every dwarf in the kitchen had halted whatever task occupied their hands. Staring intently at Balin.

“Would you be my kin if I asked you?”

“Well,” Balin started, his face turning a shade warmer, but Eryn gave him the benefit of the doubt because the oven was on. “You don’t know what you’re asking,” Balin settled, his eyes immediately dropped to the produce he was cutting. He seemed conflicted.

"You're right, I don't, but since we're speaking hypothetically," Eryn winked at him, and he seemed to relax. "What would that entail?"

"Well, it would require letters of approval from my brother and all of our extended family. You would have to be approved by Oin and Gloin, who are our closest relations. Then Thorin, his sister, Fili, and Kili, even Dain Ironfoot, would have to approve your acceptance. You would be a Durin, and that lass would be no small thing to achieve." Balin explained, and Eryn was struck by the depth of his elucidation. She wondered if there was a more natural way, other than picking someone with a smaller family. Though Eryn guessed not, Dwarves were fond of their tradition, and who was she to try and change that?

Balin's words cast a great shadow of fear and longing in her, being a part of such a prestigious family would be weighty, though iconic. The Durin's were a renowned name in literature, at least in Tolkien lore they were. But here, they weren’t just lore. Eryn quickly reminded herself, the Durin name was not a badge to collect. They were a family. Would she want to be a part of such a family? Could she? She was getting ahead of herself. She had to remember what she had, not what she wanted.

The pang of longing hit deeper; Eryn missed having a family. She missed the damp summers and the frigid winters. Eryn wondered what her Grandfather would be doing by this time. He would be walking home from his shop, supper on his mind, and she longed to be in her Grandfather’s musky house, with his old shop and his simple life. Things here were so complicated.

“I guess I’ll just stay a wayward vagabond then,” Eryn forced a smile as she finished cutting the apples to go with dinner.

"Surely, your family misses you. Though we would love to see you again, I'm sure your family will be glad to have you home," Dori chimed in, supper was finished, and he was helping Bombur move the large pot into the dining room. Eryn followed behind with the plates, and Bilbo followed behind her with the cutlery.

“My Grandfather would, but the rest of them, not really,” Eryn shrugged, trying to think of the words to describe her parents, Cheryl and Anthony Fey. "We're not close," Eryn settled and tried to decide how to explain herself, “They’re not affectionate or understanding for starters." Eryn offered, gaining the interest of the dwarves who occupied the dining hall. They always had an intuition for when a story was about to be told.

“How do you mean?” Kili asked, taking a few plates from her hands.

"Well, for starters, my mother is not a patient woman, not that I blame her, parenting doesn’t come with a manual, and I'm sure I was a nightmare." Eryn shrugged.

"I don't doubt it," Fili chimed from behind her. Eryn turned, landing a solid hit to his upper arm. Fili rubbed his shoulder vigorously, laughing while he did it.

"I always felt this pressure to please her, yet nothing I did seemed right. She nitpicked and watched my life intently under a magnifying glass; it was unbearable. I don’t think she wanted to be a mom." By the time Eryn was a teenager, her mom had given up trying to relate to anything she had done or said.

Kili hummed in understanding, “And your father?”

Her father was a different conundrum. He grew to be vastly different from his parents. According to her Grandfather Eugene, he was a different person when he was a young man. When he went to college and met Cheryl, something changed. “When I moved away with Ian, my dad said he'd never speak to me again. I tried calling after I left Ian to let him know what happened, but he didn't want anything to do with it. He said whatever happened was my own fault, and I had to deal with the consequences. We haven't spoken since." Eryn didn't mean to be so forthright before dinner, but the truth came far more naturally to her these days.

“I was raised more by my Grandparents than my actual parents. I would spend weekends, whole summers, and most winters with them. If you’d believe it, I’ve only spent seven Christmases with my parents in the twenty-six years I’ve been alive.” Eryn explained, and Bofur let out a low whistle.

“Why that’s dreadful!” Bilbo gasped, causing Eryn to laugh, thankful that someone was more offended than she was.

“Honestly, I had more fun with my grandparents than I did with my own parents on Christmas,” Eryn chuckled. “My parents would make a Christmas meal and exchange one gift, and it was always something lame, something a child would never use. One year my dad got me a pitcher’s glove. No ball or bat, just a glove.” Eryn cried, earning her a few confused laughs.

“I got my first Axe on my tenth!” Fili boasted,

"That's way better than a glove!" Eryn droned with a laugh.

“No fair!” Kili cried, “I was thirteen!”

"That's because you weren't exactly coordinated, Ki," Fili yelled back, causing Kili's mouth to gape open in horror.

“I wasn’t the one who nearly cut off Dwalin’s toe, now was I?” Kili shot back, now it was Fili who wore the face of offense.

“Nay,” Dwalin called from across the room, “You’re both cloddish, if I had my way, you’d have waited until ya were fifteen. It was your uncle who insisted you learned, at my expense, no less.” Dwalin grumbled, taking a sip from his tankard.  
“But did you die?” Eryn spouted without thinking, and Dwalin looked at her, eyes wide and mouth agape; he was genuinely dumbfounded.

The laughter started in a small burst, but within seconds the dining room was full of belly-aching laughter. Even Gandalf shook with good humor. Eryn wasn’t sure why they found this particular thing to be so hilarious, but there they were, having a laughing fit.

Bilbo took out his hanky to dab his eyes, while Fili and Kili were collapsed on the floor with Eryn in a fit of laughter. Every time she began to calm down and regain her sobriety, they would start cackling once again. Erupting the room in another outburst of amusement

When Thorin and Beorn returned to the house, they wore faces of confusion and concern. The room howled. Eryn was rolling around on the floor with his nephews, while poor Dwalin sat red-faced at the table. They were a sight to behold.

Eryn laid on the floor, tears streaming from her face, her hand clutched to her chest. Thorin stood over the three, and Eryn thought she could make out the hint of a smile. “What in Durin’s name are you doing?” He extended a hand to her, and she took it. He aided her in standing to her feet, and they all sat down to enjoy dinner together.

This was something Eryn had never experienced in all her life. She wondered for just a moment, while she was laughing with Fili and Kili if that was what it was like to have brothers. If this was what it was like to have a big family. Maybe she’d never know, but nonetheless, this was a moment that Eryn would cherish for the rest of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, thanks for reading another chapter of my story. As always, thoughts, concerns, ideas, and constructive criticism are always welcome!


	19. Note from the author

Hello everyone,

I just wanted to drop by and let everyone know that I have not abandoned this fic.

My husband has been in and out of the hospital since February (non-COVID related) and has required a lot of my time and attention. I have every intention of returning once our life slows down, for obvious reasons, this will be on hold. My apologies if anyone thought I abandoned this, I did not, but my best friend comes first and that is something I am unapologetic for.

Thank you for understanding and thank you to all of the new readers, it makes my heart so happy that this story is still being enjoyed, it means the world to me.

-B


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